Fate, Chance and Free Will
by Cairi J
Summary: There was always something there... but realistically, In their situation, would confession be hurried, or even easy? Seven haphazard yet sequential events; each one a milestone in the growing relationship of two SOLDIERS. BL, Angeal/Zack.
1. Motion

Disclaimer: Don't own.

**AN:** _Greetings, readers. This is a story which has been in the works for a long time but which I never had the resolve to submit. Finally I decided I spent too much time on it not to. Those of you who read my story "Alive" will probably have got the jist: I am rather fond of Angeal/Zack. If you do not like this pairing, I'm sure the 'back' button on your browser would be happy to assist you._

_This is a series of events depicting how their relationship develops over time - from the start of Zack's SOLDIER life right through to his death. **The perspective will interchange between the two of them throughout the story; sometimes the chapters.** There's nothing very explicit in this story but I rated it T just to be safe. :-)_

_Apologies in advance for small canon errors or whatever. Not bothered myself, but hey. Enjoy._

* * *

**Motion**

No spectator of the scene would have been able to identify the two blurred figures as they darted across, around and even at each other; arms frantically swinging blades that collided with resonant crashes. The movements were swift – yet while one figure's were fluid and adept, the other's were impulsive and reckless. The two combined, however, made something of a perfect and lethal dance.

Words were snapped out like the crack of a whip from one; striking into the other an obvious incentive. The leaner figure swung back at the more powerful, heeding his words and hitting with yet more force.

To anyone else, this would have been a battle. It would have been a raging tournament; a fight to the death – but this was far from it.

It was – albeit violent – a mandatory and fairly prolonged training session. And the trainee in question was young Zack Fair; his angular face contorted with concentration as he both followed and ignored his mentor's sharp instructions.

Angeal Hewley kept up his usual mixture of composure and exasperation.

"Left foot!"

Zack's sword was knocked to the floor with a clatter.

"Pick it up; try again."

The young man grimaced and did as told. There was a kind of heated, almost angered determination in his face as he returned, panting, to the centre of the room; readying himself for the onslaught to continue.

It was the most serious Angeal had ever seen him look, and it was decided that this was no bad thing. He needed to be broken in - and for that, he was to be pushed to the limit.

"Shift. Watch your back!"

There was only motion, and everything was happening at once. There were the shouts, the clatters and flashes of bright metal and the glint of narrowed blue eyes; the scraping of leather boots upon the hard floor as their relentless attacks continued – him, with self-choreographed actions and heavy footfalls; the younger man and his sharp face, lithe figure and impulsiveness – the dull gleam of sweat upon taut skin and the movement of aching muscles, burning flesh; sharp exhalation and the surge of adrenaline - it was unremitting, and there was a unity, merging every fierce strike and swift clash as though it were all one single deadly entity…

Angeal had to catch his own breath upon the mere thought of it all. He came out of what was clearly a reality lapse, and focused on the movements of the determined young SOLDIER in front of him.

Though there were men more powerful and skilled than Zack, there was definite promise in what he already had. There may not have been quite enough expertise in his actions to see him through to 1st Class yet, but he swung that blade like a gladiator on an ancient battlefield and Angeal was sure this had enough effect to bring multiple targets down at once… And the boy was enthusiastic, yes, but somewhat simple in his ways of dealing with things. If there was enthusiasm – or any other such sentiment, for that matter - it was often so intense that it overrode everything else. The result, in this case, was clumsiness.

"Weight to the right. Parry!"

Zack's blade swung to crash against Angeal's swift attacking strike.

"That was another attack, not a parry."

The young man stopped this time, catching his breath. He looked both confused and infuriated. "How so?"

Angeal gestured at his sword. "You swung it. See how the blades just deflected off each other? I could easily have caught you through the middle right after you did that."

Zack pursed his lips in annoyance and tensed his grip on the sword. "Show me."

Angeal sighed. "In defence, you need to use the blade as a shield." He demonstrated. In a quick movement, the sword was whipped across and stopped dead in mid-air. Angeal held it steady for a few seconds as if it were against a brick wall. "That gives you the opportunity to push your opponent away." He lowered his sword. "Attack me."

The boy hesitated for a split second, but did not need telling twice. He flung his sword in an arc at Angeal, whose own blade brought his to an instantaneous halt. Zack's azure eyes went wide for a moment, before he was shoved backwards and sent hurtling to the cold floor beneath.

"…Okay!" Zack strained the word as he sat up, wincing. "Okay. I get it. But did ya really have to do that?"

Angeal raised a brow. "You asked me to show you."

For a moment the young man stared at him through narrowed, inquisitive eyes. He then smirked and shook his head in defeat. "Fair enough."

Angeal stood beside Zack and, impulsively, did something he had never done until now: offered a hand to pull him to his feet. Even Zack hesitated; looking at Angeal's hand in the mildest form of surprise – but quickly took the offer. Angeal had to wonder why in the hell he hadn't left Zack to get up by himself (he was perfectly capable no doubt); or why there was a tiny, barely-noticeable jump in his heartbeat when he held the young man's hand; or why he had conspicuously pulled him up just a little too close to his own chest.

What in Gaia's name was wrong with him?

He abruptly turned away.

"…So…" Zack muttered, "You want me to practice that parrying, or what?"

"Yes." Angeal replied, suddenly aware that he couldn't bring himself to look the boy in the eye. "Remember what I told you."

Zack nodded and bit his bottom lip, making a strange face that Angeal assumed was out of concentration. Angeal delivered an attack, and it was stopped dead in its tracks. Zack had, in fact, blocked his hit so forcefully that the older man felt a tremor rebound from the blade and pass right through his arm.

"How was that?" Zack had resumed the puppy-like anticipation that was so typical of him.

By now Angeal had no choice _but_ to look him in the eye. As he did, he raised a brow. "Impressive. So why didn't you do that before?"

They lowered their blades. Zack pouted like a kid, shrugging innocently. "Heat of the moment, I guess."

_True,_ thought Angeal. "Hmm. Try not to let it catch you off-guard next time."

"Okay." Zack seemed to be muttering to himself. "_Concentrate, concentrate_."

Angeal couldn't help but feel inwardly amused. Quite clearly, the guy was often in an entire little world of his own – but this couldn't be helped. Zack Fair was Zack Fair, and that was fine by Angeal.

"Sephiroth asked to see me round about now," he said, "so I should be going. Feel free to carry on practicing – this room is open for the next hour or so."

But the youth had already begun to un-strap the armour from his shoulders. He looked back at his mentor – his face damp with sweat and his breath yet to steady – and gave a lopsided grin. "Thanks, but I prefer training with you. Besides, I need a shower. Later!"

And he was gone out the door.

For a brief moment Angeal stood on the spot, not knowing entirely what to make of what happened in those last few seconds. There wasn't any time to think on it, though – he had to be elsewhere – but as he left the room himself, he gave into a smile. There was that good old pride again… and something else. But he decided to leave it at that; if only for now.

* * *


	2. Holiday

**Holiday**

Zack, one hand on his hip and the other over his brow in the true tourist fashion, surveyed his surroundings with a look of intrigue. He stood on the uppermost deck of the ferry, gazing out into the cobalt blue of the ocean and the azure of the sky above. Clouds were scarce, and the sun made the water glitter. _Wouldn't it be cool, _he thought wistfully, _if that was where the stars went during the day…_

"You won't be able to see Costa Del Sol from here yet, Fair." a low, eerily calm voice murmured from behind him, taking him by surprise.

Zack jumped and turned around abruptly. "Sir? Didn't see you there."

Sephiroth smiled, closing his eyes in a serene manner. "Don't let my presence distract you from your search, even if it is slightly fruitless. You won't be able to see the coast for at least another ten minutes."

"I know, but this view's just as nice." The young man placed his hands on his hips, kicking out at the ground in front of him. "Where's Angeal? Uh, sir."

The silver-haired warrior came to join him, leaning casually on the railings. "At the stern. He's taking a walk about."

"Ah." Zack smiled – if vaguely nervously; this tall man in all his greatness still intimidated him a little, if he was to be entirely truthful. "Maybe I'll catch him. Thanks si-"

"And Zack, this is my vacation too – please give me a break from the formalities as well."

The youth grinned. "Sure, Seph."

"…Not that informal."

He chuckled to himself. "Sorry. Sephiroth."

The man rolled his eyes as he turned around, walking leisurely towards the staircase that led to the deck below.

_**24 Hours earlier…**_

"…_Are you being serious?" Zack exclaimed, whipping around on the spot._

_Angeal sighed. "Why would you think I'm not?"_

_The youth beamed at him. "But is it okay with the General?"_

"_It should be; he was the one who suggested it."_

_Zack couldn't quite believe his luck. Sephiroth, allowing him to spend his three-day break with them? The young SOLDIER felt like he had just been promoted overnight. He smirked, cocking his head to one side in curiosity. "Since when was __**I**__ so special?"_

_If he wasn't mistaken, he thought he caught a quick flush of colour in his mentor's cheeks. Angeal straightened up, and said simply; "Who else would we take with us?"_

"_You could've gone by yourselves."_

"_Don't play coy, Pup. You know why we're taking you."_

_He could have played on that sentence; really infuriated the man, but decided to tone his typical mischievousness down a notch. "Because I'm an awesome buddy, right?"_

_He would have sworn Angeal had smirked for a split second before he turned around. "Just pack up what you need, Zack. I'll meet you back here tomorrow morning, 8am sharp."_

And that was how Zack began the first vacation he ever spent alongside Angeal.

There was free time, of course – as should come with any job - but Zack had always gone away with either another group of fellow aspiring SOLDIERs or taken the time for himself; alone and often in the countryside. So when he was asked by two of ShinRa's most reputable military assets - of all people – to spend his bi-monthly long weekend in Costa Del Sol with them, he wondered if there was some great and humiliating scheme behind it all. But Angeal was his friend and was never known for playing pranks, so Zack had let the notion escape him and now simply basked in the glorious honour that came with being chosen to come on such a trip.

It was turning into quite the luxurious break. From what Zack knew, Angeal had originally suggested camping - but Sephiroth had shown a rather strong disinclination to the idea ("if I have to sleep in another tent this month there shall be DIRE consequences"), and even had the company send out one of their ferries to get them to their destination. The General had also been adamant that they were to go to the part of the resort that was the least populated.

This would usually have disappointed Zack – owing to the imminent lack of bikini-clad young females – but for whatever reason, he wasn't bothered by the prospect of spending his time with his superiors. He felt special; like he was in some sort of club, and the vacation was theirs and _only_ theirs. Plus, he was rather interested to see what the two older men would be like in a non-military environment.

"What is it?"

Zack didn't like it when people made him jump like that. Catching his breath, he turned on the spot only to see his mentor standing with arms folded opposite him; the breezes catching his hair.

"What's what?" Zack asked.

Angeal frowned. "Sephiroth said you were looking for me."

"He did?" Zack's heart had yet to steady itself. "Uh… I wasn't _looking_ for you, as such… Just wondered where you were."

The man raised a brow, grunted, and strode over to the railings. He was silent.

Zack peered at him with a strange if not slightly unnecessary feeling of guilt, wondering if he'd managed to annoy him. Angeal's brow was furrowed (more than usual, Zack might have added) and he appeared as though he was on the lookout for something, his eyes darting this way and that over the sparkling ocean and his hands clasped over the balustrade. The sea spray and gentle winds played across his face but he remained oddly stern, and notably distant.

It was then that Zack realised there was nothing wrong with Angeal – he was just in his SOLDIER mindset. Even now.

Zack gazed blankly at him. "Do you ever relax?"

The man's eye twitched. "What's it to anyone else?"

"It's a lot to me."

Angeal peered at the youth out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"

Zack folded his arms and straightened up in mock-offence. "Two reasons: bad vibes rebound from person to person so eventually you have a whole group of miserable assholes; and _you're on vacation_."

Angeal sighed, looking as if he were about to retort with something sharp – but seemed to be composing himself before he spoke. "Thank you for your concern, Zack, but I'm afraid you won't understand how it is until you're in my position. It's never easy to adjust your mindset for such a short time and then suddenly go back to normal again."

Zack felt somewhat swatted away like an irritating bug, but he would persist with this. The words began to spout from his mouth. "I may not understand completely but if you've been given the time, why can't you just allow yourself to make the most of it and escape for a while? After all, isn't life about balance?"

The man looked down. "I-"

"He's like this during every holiday we take." That familiar silky voice returned, its owner joining them both. "You see, Zack - Angeal is a workaholic."

"Don't be ridiculous." Angeal muttered.

Zack had to snigger at Sephiroth's incredulous smirk.

The General placed his hands on the rail. "Mind betting on that?"

Angeal peered at him with a look combining frustration and anxiousness, but said nothing.

Sephiroth, feline eyes alight with triumph, smiled calmly and stepped away from the barrier. As he turned, he looked from Zack and back to Angeal in what looked like vague amusement. "You can learn from your protégé, friend."

With that, the slender man drifted away from them; his silver hair following him in the breeze like a ghost.

There was a disbelieving glint in Angeal's eye as they were eventually left alone. Zack, who could have done nothing more than overlook the two comrades' secretive debate in wonder, smirked and waited for his mentor to speak.

"…Flouncing bastard thinks he knows everything."

"Hey," Zack chuckled, "he's your buddy. He's just watchin' out for ya."

Angeal sighed. "I know that, but sometimes I can't help but wonder how he manages to be so flippant about things."

"Well exactly – he's relaxing, isn't he?" Zack retorted. "Clearly even the General knows he's gotta step back once in a while; why can't you?"

There was defeat dawning on Angeal; Zack could tell. The man ran a hand through his hair. "It's funny; Sephiroth never had trouble with holidays. Neither did Genesis, come to think of it."

Zack smiled and gave his friend's arm a forceful nudge. "Then you're the only one worrying! ShinRa wouldn't let you take a break if they needed you back at HQ, so why the concern? When we get to Costa Del Sol I want to see you having a good time, hear me?"

Finally, a smirk flickered onto the older man's previously resilient face. "Blast you, Pup."

The smile on Zack's face developed into a beaming grin. "Nobody's right all the time, much as it sucks to admit."

There was an agreeable silence between them, until the sun caught a distant, golden surface. Zack squinted at it before his eyes lit up with anticipation. "Is that it, there?"

"Correct." Angeal replied.

:

Sephiroth strode out to join Zack onto the veranda of the airy wooden hut, observing the scenery. They were nestled on a small hill overlooking a stretch of palm-tree-littered beach that appeared to be decidedly empty. The General seemed satisfied by this, and returned to the lounge. Zack had begun to wander around – being the first to have unpacked and made himself at home (to put it in its mildest form). He opened a large cupboard and observed a colourful selection of what seemed like surfboards.

"Whose shorts have I just trodden in?" Sephiroth commented lazily, frowning down at the garment beneath his feet.

Zack raised a finger. "Mine."

Sephiroth looked at him in exasperation. "Then the socks I found festering in the bathroom must be yours too - along with the shirt I nearly tripped over in the lobby. I'm all for relaxation, Fair, but kindly refrain from turning our hut into your wardrobe."

"Sorry." The youth replied with an awkward smirk.

"You see, Zack -" Angeal came marching into the room with his nose in the air, putting on an unctuous voice - "_Sephiroth_ is a _clean freak_."

The General's eyes narrowed in indignation. Zack could not contain the resulting bout of sniggering that threatened to get him into trouble.

"Now if you don't mind…" Angeal reached into his suitcase and grabbed something. "I'm taking these - " he pulled out a pair of swimming shorts – "and one of those - " he pointed at the boards in the open closet – "and I'm going down there." He gestured outside and towards the ocean.

Before long, the man had darted into the next room and come out clad in only the shorts, hauling one of the boards out and giving a wave of his hand. "Hurry up."

Zack, caught unaware by how much skin his mentor had suddenly exposed, stood bewildered in the centre of the lounge.

Sephiroth removed his jacket and opened his own bag. "Well played, youth. It appears your advice is quite effective."

"My advice?" Zack replied. "Surely you were the one who spurred him when you called him a workaholic..."

But Sephiroth, returning nothing more than a furtive smile, had begun to make his way out of the room.


	3. Heal

**Heal**

It was under a clear night sky that they set up their tent; pitched quite nicely next to a river and in the seclusion of a picturesque woodland area west of Rocket Town. The air was sultry, and the sound was next to none – save for that of the flowing water, and their own movements. It was certainly an ideal night to be camping outside.

This was not, however, a leisure trip. The two of them had in fact just completed an extremely involved mission, which had gone on virtually non-stop for two days straight and had commenced almost immediately after a lengthy induction period for the aspiring SOLDIERS – which, Angeal might have admitted, was not what he'd call the least exasperating of tasks. They'd recently had to locate the outpost nearby and gather their supplies; leaving them no choice but to camp here tonight, all because Reno and Rude – their designated pilots – had "been delayed" and were unable to pick them up at the scheduled time (namely, they were to be a full day late).

Angeal knew better than to put this down to business affairs. Turks like those two were never entirely reliable, and he was 99 percent sure that at least one of them was sprawled out drunk somewhere in the streets of Midgar.

So, camping it was to be – and he hoped the night would pass by as quickly as possible.

Zack was hammering the last of the stakes into the ground with his foot; a very uncharacteristic look on his face. His almost perpetual enthusiasm and hyperactivity had been replaced, for some reason this evening, with clear discontent. In short, he looked quite pissed off about something.

…Having caught his ankle on one of the guy-ropes and fallen flat on his face didn't seem to help, either.

"Frickin' piece of…"

Angeal continued to watch him from his seated position by the tiny fire he'd started next to the tent. The young man seemed to be growing increasingly frustrated.

"Sit down, Zack." Angeal muttered. "If you carry on like that you'll have pulled the whole thing down before we've had a chance to sleep in it."

Oddly, Zack complied in silence. He plonked himself down beside his friend, and a visible sign of discomfort crossed his face as he did so.

Angeal's dark brow furrowed as the boy prodded absently at the fire with a twig. There was definitely something wrong, and Angeal wasn't about to get any sleep lying next to an opinionated pre-adult who was being grumpy – especially Zack, who had a tendency to whine as and when he was displeased with something.

But though there was clearly a problem, Zack wasn't griping about anything – and that was the strange thing about it all. Something was bothering him where it hadn't been an hour ago, and Angeal wanted to know what it was. He didn't care why; all he knew was that he did _not_ like seeing the kid like this.

"You look hacked off something terrible. What's wrong?"

Zack grunted and shrugged. And… carried on poking at the fire.

Was that _it?_

Angeal was beginning to feel slightly disgruntled himself by now, and frowned at him. "You're too old for mood swings – tell me what's up. I'll not let you in the tent until you do."

Zack sighed and shrugged again; though this time he followed it with a short wince. "It's nothing really. I'll be fine."

"Bullshit, if you'll pardon me saying so." Angeal replied bluntly.

Zack looked at him. He half-laughed and shook his head, throwing the twig aside. "You'll think I'm a wuss for telling you."

"You haven't told me anything yet."

"Yeah, but it's stupid and I'll get over it."

"For Gaia's sake… you've always had trouble following commands, haven't you?"

The young man sighed and clasped his hands in his lap. "Fine, fine… I'm in considerable pain, how's that?"

Angeal wasn't quite prepared for that. He moved instinctively for the first-aid kit lying in the backpack next to the tent. "Gods Zack, you sustained an injury in battle and you didn't tell me? That's not being a _wuss_; that's just being a plain idiot…"

"Not an injury as such." Zack murmured defensively. "Just… Muscle ache."

Stopping in his tracks, Angeal gave him a perplexed look. "Oh. Well either you have a very low pain threshold or you've put yourself through too much, too quickly. How bad is it?"

"Probably bad enough that I won't so much as move my ass out of bed tomorrow morning. See, I told you I was being a wuss."

Angeal sighed. "Not really. You've had to cram a ridiculous amount of action into the last week or so and you must've done something earlier today that pulled a few muscles. If you just relax you ought to be alright by morning."

They lay in silence inside the spacious tent. The fire had been put out and their belongings safely stowed away in appropriate corners; the majority of their clothes folded up along with them (or in Zack's case, piled up haphazardly next to his feet). Angeal had settled down beneath his own blanket, and had no sooner closed his eyes when he heard restlessness from his friend's side of the tent.

He was in audible discomfort. First there was the sound of him turning over or moving about; then there came a noncommittal grunt or a short, quiet word of protest. This went on for about a minute or two, before Angeal could stand it no longer and turned over in his makeshift bed to look at Zack.

Angeal's frustration turned swiftly into pity. There was a permanent grimace in the young man's face as he seemed to be trying desperately to arrange himself comfortably enough to sleep; his eyes closed tightly as if he were trying to shut out whatever was causing him such pain.

Angeal couldn't let him go through the night like that – the young man would be in agony all through tomorrow. Making a prompt decision, Angeal sat up in his bed and tapped Zack gently on the shoulder.

"Sit up."

Zack looked up at him in vague surprise, his eyes watery. "Ah… I'm sorry man, am I keeping you awake?"

"Never mind that – sit up. We can't have this."

He looked guilty, but he complied and hauled himself into as best a seated position as he could evidently muster. "What can I do? I'm so seized-up I can't even lie down properly…"

Angeal moved so he sat cross-legged behind Zack, who peered around his back inquiringly.

"What're you-"

"Tell me where it's worse."

Zack hesitated. "Uh… My upper back, I guess. Between my shoulders and on my neck…"

"Relax."

"Huh?"

Angeal placed his hands on Zack's shoulders. At his touch the young man jumped ever so slightly, but there was neither further question nor protest. This tensed-up youth needed a back massage whether he liked it or not, or there would be dire consequences by the morning.

Angeal knew that sometimes even the most stubborn and independent of people needed to be looked after once in a while, and that most of the time they were secretly gratified by it, whether or not they cared to admit… He knew both he and his young friend were two prime examples. Angeal couldn't help but smirk to himself when he caught sight of Zack twiddling his thumbs in an awkward fashion as his shoulders were rubbed – but this didn't last long. By the time Angeal had set a steady pace, the boy seemed to have melted like butter in the sun.

His muscles were tense and knotted; now that Angeal had felt his shoulders. If anything would give someone considerable pain, it would be this – and the only thing he could think of was that Zack must have flung his arms in the wrong direction too quickly or forcefully. The young man sat there, however, as if he hadn't a care in the world and uttered a quiet sigh as Angeal's hands moved slowly between his shoulder blades. Zack's head of unruly black hair gradually lowered until it was completely bowed; and he was clearly content, his breaths steady and his body motionless.

Angeal carried on; ran his hands over smooth skin and tight muscle, adding more pressure where he deemed necessary. There was a visible change already, but Zack looked as though he was benefiting from this too much for Angeal to stop _quite_ yet. The older man didn't care to acknowledge that he too was more absorbed in this than he'd bargained for, or that he found a strange fascination in the touch of something that was so different from the inside of a worn leather glove or the solid hilt of a standard combat blade… It was the soft, very human surface of pale skin; the sedated but approving response Angeal was receiving that had far more appeal. And it was apparent, from the way Zack tilted his head to one side and sighed more deeply this time, that it was doing very much more good than either of them had evidently anticipated.

There was no explanation for anything Angeal felt; no clarity he could put to the way he felt considerably more serene than he did whenever he'd lie down for a long sleep; nor for the fact he had inexplicably changed his movements. He wasn't so much rubbing Zack's shoulders now as… well, stroking them, put simply. It was almost instinctive, and he wasn't sure why – he only knew that it seemed to be something of great comfort to the young man sitting silent in front of him. And as he almost inadvertently brushed the fine black hairs on the nape of Zack's neck with a finger, he swore he felt the flesh beneath shiver for a split second; a barely-noticeable response that was typical of Zack's quick reflexes, but in some way a silent communication to Angeal. He could have imagined it in simple words: _That felt nice._

The somewhat disconcerting thing, however, was that he didn't feel like taking his hands away from the young man – even when he found his fingers against the delicate flesh just behind Zack's ears; his face so close to the youth that raven hair bristled his chin… Angeal only just realised what he was doing, and wondered why Zack hadn't shown any sign of disturbance. That was, until…

"Angeal?"

As though something had frozen him like fresh ice, the eldest stopped in his tracks. "…Yes?"

"How'd you do it?"

He wasn't sure whether to feel immensely relieved or slightly alarmed. "Meaning…?"

Zack kept his back to him. "Where'd you learn to do this? You never told me you were such a pro in the art of back massage. That worked, like, _instantly_."

Angeal paused; not entirely certain where in fact he _had_ learnt to do it. "What can I say… I'm a natural?"

Zack gave a soft half-laugh. "You've made me all sleepy. And y'know what? I reckon I can sleep properly now; I feel loads better." He turned around. "Thanks."

Angeal's eyes met with his. "No problem."

Eventually they lay back down. Angeal must have found it all quite therapeutic himself; for as he tucked himself beneath the blanket, he felt unusually drowsy and considerably more peaceful. He closed his eyes, letting the comfort of darkness immerse his vision and settle him into another dream…

Until he felt the faint, tickling sensation of what had to be a finger moving in tiny circular motions between his shoulder blades.

For a moment he peered behind him, meeting his companion's warm blue eyes and childlike smile. All Angeal could do – all he felt was necessary – was to smile tranquilly back.

And they fell asleep, submerging their conscious minds in vast worlds of images and secrets that perhaps, one day, they would tell each other.

Perhaps…

* * *

_AN: Aha, now we're getting somewhere. There will be more, much more! :-)_


	4. Wash

**AN: **_And now, on with the show! Watch me as I exploit the coming situation in order to advance the relationship between our two boys! See me as I write lengthy, somewhat pointless dialogue and descriptions and make you all think dirty! :-D_

* * *

**Wash**

"…Damn."

Zack, trudging along in the direction of the nearest entrance to the building, stopped to peer at his mentor through dense, drizzling rain. "What?"

Angeal had flipped his mobile phone shut, and looked thoroughly disgruntled about something. He then motioned for Zack to enter the building. "Hurry up; it's miserable out here."

They came out of the rain and into the disinfectant-smelling foyer, their drenched uniforms clinging to their skin. Their faces and bare arms were conspicuously decorated with splatters of thick mud, which Zack thought was rather remarkable, seeing as the only part of them that had been touching the ground was their feet – but he then realised that training ten miles east of Midgar and then journeying back on foot to Headquarters will have meant they'd kicked up a great deal of dirt along the way. Angeal, owing to his heavy footfalls, had obviously managed to send considerably more mud flying into his face and now had what looked like large, ugly black freckles.

"What were you so pissed about?" Zack asked, peeling his leather gloves off his hands and wringing them out over the previously spotless floor.

Angeal sighed. "A pipe bust in the 1st Class quarters' showers. Now I have to use the communal ones on the second floor while it's being repaired."

Zack snorted. "Awww... diddums."

"I don't see why you find it so funny." Angeal muttered impatiently. "Because ultimately, this means we'll be sharing the same shower."

Any trace of joviality in Zack was wiped out in an instant. He stared at his mentor in disbelief. "Uh… Why can't I use it after you?"

The older man lowered his brow and looked at him as if he were a moron. "Zack. We have little over twenty minutes to report back to the briefing room, and you expect us _both_ to be ready in said time when you know full well how long you take to shower by yourself?"

He had a point, but Zack was determined to avoid the embarrassment. "…I don't take _that_ long."

Unfortunately, Angeal had already begun to stride off towards the elevator. Zack caught up with him, feeling the dread begin to mount. "Seriously, I don't."

"Oh really? And what about that time I was made to wait a quarter of an hour into a session because _someone_ was still loitering around in the bathroom?"

Zack remembered. That one had come at a cost. "Okay, so I do. Is it that much of a crime for a guy to be particular about hygiene?"

"You can achieve such goals in half the time."

"I can't! My hair sucks unless I dry it right."

"It already looks like a chocobo's backside – you really needn't do much about it."

"But I-"

"Oh, _shut up_."

They traversed a hallway and opened the door to an expanse of asylum-white tiles that was the communal shower and changing room. Zack was familiar with this, having used it very regularly – but there was a barely-noticeable grimace on Angeal's face as he stepped carefully past the lockers (presumably to avoid slipping over on the puddles of water left behind by previous users).

"I can't even remember where the blasted things are."

Zack - feeling inwardly quite miffed that this all wasn't an elaborate joke - replied jadedly; "To the left, around those lockers."

When they were located, Angeal took one look inside and shook his head in despair. "Oh, such happy memories..."

Zack gave him an inquisitive look.

The man rolled his eyes. "In case you weren't aware, I was being heavily sarcastic."

"Oh."

His hefty boots squelched against the tiles as he stepped back over to the bench in the middle of the room, throwing off the armour from his shoulders. "Right. The sooner this is over, the better."

It hadn't really hit Zack until Angeal had pulled off his shirt that this was actually happening. Inadvertently, he stood there and stared. He was scarcely one to feel nervous, but now his heart was thudding and he wasn't even sure why.

Angeal had stopped and turned to look in a puzzled manner at his subordinate. He let his turtleneck shirt land with a dull _splat_ onto the bench and set about unbuckling his belt. "Quit being a pervert and change. This can't be anything new to you – not when you use this room so often."

Zack felt hot colour flush his cheeks, and he looked away hastily. At least now he appreciated the meaning of that strange yet annoyingly accurate saying, _'safety in numbers'_… it was true – he _was_ accustomed to stripping off and bearing all in front of the numerous other men who used this shower room – but now he was alone, with only one other… And it was Angeal. Zack wasn't sure why this was so significant, but it seemed to have something to do with the fact that despite being around each other nearly all the time, a minimum of one item of clothing had – until now – served as a barrier between them both. It felt strange; like he was seeing an entirely different aspect of his friend, and it almost scared him to think he was still actually _compelled _to look.

He did indeed feel like a pervert.

"Grab a couple of towels, would you? And Gaia help you if they're not clean."

Zack, his eyes to the floor, nodded and retrieved two fluffy white towels from the airing locker, setting them down on the bench. He noticed said locker was now empty, and his eyes widened in shock. Something that Zack would rather Angeal _didn't_ see was scrawled on the inside of the door in someone else's handwriting – a prank from a fellow recruit, no doubt – and the youth decided it would be best left hidden. "We can dry our uniforms in this one."

"Perfect. Catch!"

Heavy, cold, wet material was thrown into his arms – and he was determined not to let his eyes stray to his comrade - who was now presumably stark nude, judging by the amount of clothing now in Zack's tentative grasp. He stuffed the lot into the locker and whipped off his own shirt, but faltered at his belt buckle.

"You don't have time to dawdle about." Angeal had already headed to the showers, but was peering around the furthermost set of lockers. When the youth hesitated again, he sighed. "What, d'you think I'm going to spend the next ten minutes staring at your rear end? Please get a move on, Zack – it's only a damned shower."

And he disappeared around the corner.

Zack stood there; inwardly grateful he had been left to change on his own. He heard the sound of the water being turned on (followed by a terse word of protest at what had to be the temperature it had started out with) – and decided that showing up late and filthy for briefing would probably have far worse consequences than showering in front of Angeal. He quickly threw off the rest of his clothes, placed them in with Angeal's and shuffled timidly into the fated room.

It was a large rectangular space which was, Zack noted, horribly open. Drains in the middle of the floor, shower heads attached to the walls. Functional and boring. Zack felt that familiar unpleasant jolt in his stomach when he involuntarily caught a glimpse of his friend at one side of the room, and deliberately stood at the opposite end.

His mind distracted, Zack hit the button on the wall and was subsequently covered torso-first in freezing cold water. Upon impulse he let out a yelp of shock, and jumped backwards. "_Dammit!_"

"Oh sorry, I forgot to tell you – it's probably better to stand back when you turn it on."

"No actually," said Zack through gritted teeth, "_I_ should've said something about it earlier. Probably would've reminded myself in the process."

He heard Angeal laughing quietly to himself. Zack still couldn't bear to take his eyes away from the tiles as he rinsed himself over, and found some kind of safety in that if he kept himself to himself and didn't look anywhere else, he'd manage to avoid the entire problem.

But the idea was short-lived. Zack searched his corner for any sign of cleansing products, and with a pang of grim realisation, stood up straight and asked tentatively; "Uh… Where's the shampoo?"

"Hm? Oh, it's over here."

…_Shit._

He continued to talk at the wall. "Um… Could you throw it over here?"

"Don't be stupid – get it yourself."

Zack gulped. He had no choice but to amble across the tiled floor – all the way keeping his eyes fixed on his feet. He spotted the blue bottle about a metre away from another pair of feet, and retrieved it as hastily as possible – but he had no sooner turned to make a speedy escape when he heard that quiet laughter again. He stopped in his tracks. "…What?"

"You know, I could either put your awkwardness down to immaturity or to something else."

Zack felt his heart skip a beat. His back still to Angeal, he continued to stand edgily in the middle of the room. "How… how do you mean?"

"What I mean is that young men usually only get that awkward when they have something – or lack thereof – that they're ashamed to reveal in front of others."

Zack, his sheer indignation overriding everything he previously felt, spun around on his heel and faced his companion. "That is an unfair assumption!"

"Hey, hey!" Angeal winced and raised a hand, abruptly facing the other direction. "That was _not_ a cue for you to flash at me."

Zack only just realised what he'd done, and felt like an absolute moron. His face flushed red as he promptly turned back around. "Sorry."

Not only had he caught a look at his friend without any clothes on; he had also just broken that little barrier he had set up to get himself through this awkward situation in the first place. And he had done it by taking said friend's joke too seriously, as always.

He returned to his shower and Angeal had said nothing. "Sorry, man."

His mentor grunted. "I heard you the first time Zack, and yes, I forgive you for your somewhat improper presentation. Please get on with your shower before we run out of time."

Why then - after he'd finished attacking his hair with shampoo - did Zack see it fit to steal a glance behind him? Why was it - where he would usually look away through embarrassment - that he carried on staring at Angeal, whose back was partly turned to him? Men were meant to look at women like that… At least, that was a belief Zack had been brought up with, but honestly – wasn't attractiveness just as it is, male or female? After all - the guy was undeniably striking, with a face that seemed crafted like a unique and somehow faultless sculpture; his body a sturdy, powerful frame…

"Surely it's not that remarkable a sight."

Zack jumped. "Huh?"

Angeal peered irritably over his shoulder. "In case you're not aware, Zack, you seem to have diverted your attention towards my backside."

_That's it,_ thought Zack, _I'm toast. No excuses for this one. _"Sorry."

Angeal sighed. "Is it so grotesque that you have to keep staring at it?"

Zack frowned. "Don't say that."

"What?"

"It's not _grotesque_. It's nice."

The man had never looked so bewildered in all the time Zack had known him. Angeal's expression combined disbelief and inexplicable confusion.

And all of a sudden, Zack didn't really care how or why he found his friend so appealing – nor that he was probably giving the guy the fright of his life at the moment. For some reason, it all seemed rather easy just to brush off any doubt he had or cover it up with that smooth talk he was so renowned for.

"…The heck is that supposed to mean?" Angeal muttered.

"What? I just know a nice ass when I see one." Zack replied plainly, without even a backwards glance.

"You really are a pervert."

"So sue me?"

There was a pause, until Angeal grunted. "Maybe I ought to. I'll have it filed under sexual harassment."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me."

"Oh, gladly!"

"…Depraved little son of a-"

"I'm too cool to sue anyway."

…And it went on like that until the time came for them to depart; at which point Zack had waited until he knew his friend had left for the lockers. The youth made his hasty leave of the showers – nearly slipping over on a blob of shampoo in the process – and turned the corner, only to have something fluffy and white flung into his face.

Angeal, his lower body obscured by a towel of his own, shot Zack a pessimistic look. "Here's the part where you quit plodding about and get dressed. Think you can do that without spending an unfathomable amount of time on your hair?"

Narrowing his eyes and smirking, Zack wrapped the towel around himself. "You underestimate me, sir. I accomplish all!"

"…Contrary to what you believe, Zack, the sun does not shine out of your butt."

"Well, darn – I thought I was special."

Angeal looked for a moment as though he were about to say something, but replaced it with an exasperated sort of smile.

Following their somewhat colourful discussion was a companionable silence. Before long the two of them had sought to change back into their uniforms (dry now, thanks to the airing locker). Zack himself was content and relieved that this ordeal was nearly over, and pulled his boots out from under the bench with a smile on his face.

However, the feeling was short-lived. As his uniform landed on the bench next to him, the young man realised he had left it all too late to obscure what else was in that locker…

"What in the name of -"

Zack turned around, and froze in horror. Angeal, having emptied the locker, had clearly just discovered the large black letters scribbled on the inside of its door: _FAIR 4 HEWLEY._

"…Zack, what is this?"

The youth gulped. "Uh… Dunno. Must've been some grunt trooper. They like stirring things up."

Angeal's face was vacant, his finger suspended in a nonchalant sort of pointing gesture in front of the offending locker. Again, he seemed like he was about to comment further on this, but instead settled for "I think I was better off _not_ knowing what goes on in this place."

He flicked the door shut gingerly as if it were covered in something revolting.

More silence. Before long, they had changed and left the room, beginning to make their way to briefing. Zack, his conscience clear but still slightly mortified at the message on that door, bounded up alongside his mentor. He decided such things were not to be dwelt upon.

"You _do_ have a nice ass, by the way."

Angeal continued to walk, although his pace slowed as he turned to shoot Zack a wary yet baffled sort of glare.

Zack frowned. "What? You thought I was kidding?"

Nothing further was said for a while - until both men stopped in the middle of the corridor, looked blankly at each other, and burst out laughing.

* * *


	5. Protect

**Protect**

There were too many of them.

Anywhere he directed his line of sight, they were there. Vast, ugly, spindly creatures not unlike the blood cats they had wiped out in Midgar a few weeks earlier – but there was something very, very wrong with these monsters. They were neither feline nor reptile, and looked thoroughly fearsome.

"These are hybrids…" Angeal muttered with deep disgust in his voice, holding his blade at the ready as they stared at him through flame-yellow eyes. "The ones from Midgar – they must've been crossbreeding with the Arks from the mines."

"Arks?" Zack mumbled nervously, watching the things advance in dangerous curiosity. "You mean the _dragons?_"

Angeal nodded, his eyes seemingly scanning the nearest creatures for weak spots.

"Didn't we get rid of those huge cat things?" Zack hissed irritably.

"Who's to say a couple of them weren't simply driven out?"

"Dammit. They were bitches to kill, too."

The closest monsters snarled, as if in sudden realization that they were being intruded upon. The ones behind followed suit, letting out harrowing growls and baring fangs the size of small daggers. They lowered on their front legs, ready to attack.

"Just hack at them," Angeal instructed, "and aim for the neck. Remember to watch your back."

Before Zack could even agree, the creatures in front had launched themselves at the two comrades, claws splayed. The youth swung his sword at the nearest, severing its head. Another hurled its weight in his direction; he countered it with another strike. There was hardly a thought in his head as he dispatched one monster after the other; he had no _time_ to think. He could only go by instinct, and fight for survival.

They were, at least, fairly simple to get rid of. Just hacking at them did indeed seem like the best solution – the creatures fought poorly. Through green, slimy drool and thick black blood, Zack clenched his teeth and swung his blade in any direction possible. He caught multiple monsters at once; more filth and debris flying into the air in front of him.

Before long the number of attacking beasts had dwindled, and the battle was being won. Zack trawled through bodies and continued to fight, but this time he could think. He now knew there were more creatures overlooking the scene - all of which seemed to be retreating in fear. He knew that he was covered in grime most unimaginable, and that he had clearly slaughtered more of the monsters than he'd anticipated.

He also knew that he was either a long way from his original battle spot, or Angeal had disappeared.

With a last slash to fell a nearby beast, Zack stopped. His heart raced, his eyes darted about to find his friend but there was no sign… Until there, at least a hundred feet away, was a cluster of snarling creatures and the odd glint of metal. Few were falling dead, and many were attacking.

Zack panicked. He felt his head drain of blood; his pulse quicken. There was only one thought in his head: _Help Angeal._

He hurtled across the battlefield and directly into the core of the chaos, where he caught a few of the beasts from behind. They fell to the ground and revealed Angeal; fighting, equally dirty and bleeding from beneath his shirt. For a moment he caught sight of Zack, and his eyes widened – but not in relief.

"What are you doing?"

Zack swung his sword at another monster, shooting him an incensed look. "I'm help-"

"BEHIND YOU!"

There wasn't a second on Zack's side. He had no sooner turned a fraction than when he was descended upon by one of the creatures – it knocked him to the ground, and sent his sword spinning from his grasp. His focus hazy and his head light, Zack felt eight of something very sharp sink themselves into his upper arms. Pain and pressure shot straight up to his neck and immediately, he knew he was helpless.

"_ZACK!_"

Putrid breath assaulted his senses, and he could only see the terrible fangs; the fiery eyes. His pulse pounded in his ears and fear gripped him so tightly that he couldn't move – he couldn't so much as _scream_, his body was frozen and the only words his conscience would allow into his thoughts were _This is it, I'm finished…_

There was a sound of steel severing flesh, and the stench of rotten breath was replaced by the stream of slick dark liquid sent flying at Zack's face. Something large was flung over his head and the claws imbedded in his arms ripped themselves away; the mass above him tumbling with a dull _thud_ to the ground on his right.

There was a ringing in Zack's ears. No growling to be heard now. The creature lay decapitated beside him. He was safe…

Something grabbed him forcefully beneath the armpits and wrenched him up from the ground. He teetered on the spot for a moment, wiping his face with his forearm to try and remove excess gunk from his face. Before him was his friend, wounded and breathing heavily - but alive.

Zack felt relief surge through him, and he gave a long sigh. "Angeal… Thank-"

"WHAT WERE YOU _THINKING?_"

Zack's face immediately fell. "Wha-"

"You_ idiot, _you_ FOOL!_" Angeal flung his sword to the ground, his face white and livid. "I TOLD you to watch your back! You didn't _listen!_"

Zack's stomach felt heavy all of a sudden. "I was helping you…"

"You don't _understand_, Zack!" Angeal's electric eyes were wide with a mixture of fury and what seemed like ineffable fear. "You should have been watching out for _yourself! _There were still enemies behind you – _WHY did you turn your back on them?_"

Zack felt the hurt and infuriation rise to the surface. "You were being outnumbered!"

The expression Angeal wore was one rarely – if not never – seen on him, and it scared and confused Zack to think he had done something so appalling as to trigger the man's loss of composure (which was an equally rare thing to happen). Angeal was white, shaking; breathing deeply – and if Zack was going to be very observant, he thought he could see his eyes reddening.

"Never mind me!" Angeal retorted sharply, cutting through the air with his hand. "I had my situation under control – you had your own safety to concentrate on! Damn it Zack, you could have been _killed!_"

The youth swallowed hard against the lump rising in his throat. He frowned. "They could have killed you too…"

"Even so!" Angeal's voice had trembled for barely a second. "You are my responsibility, and your life comes first! I have been in SOLDIER for many years, Zack, and I know what needs to be done. You are still in training – there are things you are not yet aware of… which is even more reason for you to both follow my instructions and protect your own life! For Gaia's sake, you've only begun… You're still _young!_"

Zack looked down before he could let his mentor notice the growing wateriness in his eyes. " You're not _that_ much older."

Angeal gave a terse snarl and clenched his fists. "That isn't my _point! _You should NOT be the one looking out for me – I have dealt with countless monsters like these, and been in worse situations! Gods, if you had died…"

His words drifted off as he turned away from Zack. There was silence.

Zack hadn't felt this dreadful in a very long time. There was a sickly, lingering weight in the pit of his stomach and a chaotic mass of mixed sentiments – remorse, fear, sadness, anger… He could no longer get his head round how he truly felt, and tried his hardest to bite back tears he swore he would never let surface. He didn't even know why he felt so terrible – but he ventured a guess that it had something to do with how furious he had made his friend, and the look the man had on his face; so unlike him, and so _real_… He simply knew it gave him unfathomable anguish to see Angeal so distraught.

Edging closer with nerves shattering, Zack stared at his mentor's back. Angeal was stock still, his head lowered into his hand. The youth reached out slowly, with the utmost apprehension, and attempted to lay his hand on a powerful shoulder blade - but flinched back as Angeal's head snapped up.

"Let's go." He said, a miraculous sobriety in his now hardened voice.

Zack was neither in a position to argue, nor even to attempt an apology. He watched as Angeal swiped his sword off the ground and, without even a glance back, began to stride away from the scene of the battle.

Zack followed behind like a wounded dog; his head bowed and his gaze on his feet.

The journey back to Headquarters from the marshy grasslands between Midgar and the Mythril mines was not a long one, in terms of distance. However, Zack felt like it was the longest and most difficult trip he'd ever had to make. It was silent and cold, and he never saw anything other than his mentor's back until they came to the great barrier that was the mountain range – and realized they had no way of contacting HQ for transport (Angeal's pager had been damaged beyond repair during the battle and they now had to find a public phone). They located a small rural hamlet at the mountain's base that had a very old booth, whose phone was terribly outdated and had a crackly line through which Angeal seemed to be having trouble communicating.

Zack watched quietly as the phone was slammed back onto its hook, causing it to loosen and tumble to the floor of the booth with a clatter. The taller man strode out of the booth without turning a cheek, making his way out of the tiny settlement.

"Um… So what's happening?"

"They're sending out a helicopter." Angeal answered curtly; his face unchanging from the bitter, morose scowl he had presumably worn ever since they began their journey back.

Zack looked down. "Oh. That's good, I guess."

Nothing was said as they waited for their escort. Zack felt empty and dejected as he watched the afternoon sun peer out from behind grey clouds, shedding its soft light on the powerful man standing resolutely on a small hill overlooking the vast grasslands. His arms were folded, and he stood like a statue. He had been truly affected by Zack's reckless actions, clearly – but why to this extent?

Zack could stand the silence no longer.

Ambling slowly towards his friend, Zack mumbled; "I'm sorry."

First, Angeal remained quiet. Then his eyes closed, his face giving way to a pained frown. "I hope you realise how much you misjudged."

"Not really."

There was a curious yet warning sort of glint in Angeal's eye as he turned his head to look at his subordinate.

Zack continued. "Don't get me wrong - you're one of the bravest fighters I know. You teach me a hell of a lot. But I always thought there comes a point where you realise you're only human, and numbers start having some kinda effect. I didn't want to see you die."

Throughout this, Angeal's face had alleviated – though there was still that trace of displeasure. "I do realize now that I probably should have warned you not to do anything rash unless the situation became dire. For that I apologise. But you did misjudge, Zack – and your behaviour was careless. You still had opponents to fend off, and you turned your back to them for my sake. I know your intentions were of the best kind…" he added, clearly having seen the wretched look on Zack's face – "believe me on that. But like I said, you are my responsibility, and if anything happened to you…"

His voice trailed off once again. Before he turned away, his cheeks had drained of colour.

All of a sudden, a realization made Zack's insides plummet. Angeal would never have been so furious with him for no reason… he was a patient teacher, and treated error fairly – so long as there was a good reason behind it. And he simply cared.

Why hadn't it occurred to Zack that maybe – just _maybe_ – Angeal would have felt the same pain he himself would feel if the worst happened? He felt so dense not to have acknowledged this glaring fact as and when the incident had occurred… The resulting feeling of guilt nearly made him nauseous.

Yet still, there had been such a change in the man that Zack still had to wonder as to what extent he was truly feared for. It was, in its own way, unsettling.

"I was dumb for letting my guard down." Zack admitted. "I'm sorry – I really am."

Angeal looked at him, his face conspicuously softer. He unfolded his muscular arms and turned to face Zack entirely. He placed a hand between the youth's neck and shoulder, tilting his head down slightly to meet Zack's eye level - making the young man's heart jump. Zack saw the familiar truth and comfort that radiated from those blue orbs, and immediately found himself lost in them.

"I know." Angeal said quietly. "Just promise me you won't let it happen again."

Zack made said promise to himself before doing as he was told. He nodded. "I promise you."

Finally, a smile – weary and weak, but a smile nonetheless – made its way onto Angeal's face. He ruffled Zack's hair and said nothing more until the familiar roar of a helicopter filled the atmosphere. The vast black aircraft descended from behind the mountain range, coming in to land opposite the settlement. The two comrades hurried towards it, the voice of someone who could only be Tseng becoming lost in the deafening beating of its propeller. They were helped inside, and the noise was blocked out when the doors slid shut.

"What in Bahamut's name were you fighting out there?" the dark-haired Turk inquired, frowning as he looked them up and down. "You two might as well have crawled out of a landfill."

"No shit!" yelled a recognizable voice over the intercom, followed by the head of flame-red hair that peered around one of the front seats. The young Turk screwed up his nose. "Smells like something threw up and died all at once back there, yo!"

A gruffer voice joined theirs. "Reno, for the last time – _eyes front!_"

"Whatever, baldy."

Angeal smiled. "Please don't make us talk about it."

Tseng raised a shapely brow, taking his seat. He picked up a black pager and began to speak through the intercom. "They've been found, Sir - making our way back. Over and out."

Zack turned to his friend. "We really do look nasty, huh?"

"Yes, we do."

"And we stink."

"I know that."

"When's our next assignment?"

"Zack, shut up."

* * *


	6. Closer

_AN: Sorry guys - bit of a delay there, but we have an update. In this one you'll encounter a flashback, which I've put in italics for you. This chapter's a pivotal point in the story, and I particularly loved writing this one - even though it got read through and edited about fifty times. :-) _

* * *

**Closer**

The air over Junon bay was damp from fresh rainfall and mingled with the faint smell of the ocean. Noise from the establishment on the cliff was scarce at this height – barely a flat whisper behind the dormant cannon's sheer immensity – and it was perhaps one of the quietest places Angeal knew to exist within the urban wildernesses ShinRa had created in the eastern world.

Free time – no matter what the quantity – was another scarce privilege in the life of a SOLDIER, and so he was keen to make the most of what little time he had today. Angeal wasn't truthfully concerned about whether or not this place was off limits; he had his excuses, and if he had to take the blame for bringing Zack up here too, so be it. Nevertheless, he knew of nobody who ever came here apart from himself, Sephiroth and –in times past - Genesis. And he wanted to show Zack the kind of view one could appreciate from this height.

From where Angeal was standing it almost seemed like the boy was eclipsing the setting sun; his figure a near-silhouette, surrounded by the soft yellow glow of its rays. He was perfectly still, his hands outstretched against the mild sea wind as if he were savouring the feeling of it. Angeal watched in silence from behind him.

"_So… It seems like our Angeal has a new protégé."_

_There was a glint in the redhead's eye as he spoke. He smirked, shut his book, and folded his arms._

"_He was only assigned to me this morning, Genesis." Angeal replied. "How did you get wind of that already? You've been in Mideel."_

_Sephiroth, previously having been observing the ocean from the cannon's edge, had now come to join them. "Word around the corporation spreads like wildfire, friend. I'm surprised you seem to have forgotten."_

_Angeal merely scowled and shrugged. _

"_So, tell us about this youngster." Genesis shifted annoyingly close to Angeal, continuing to smirk._

"_What's there to know?"_

_Sephiroth raised a silver brow and did what Angeal liked to call the 'irritating folded-armed sneer'. The two men knew full well how much it _infuriated_ Angeal when they both did that in unison, but as usual, showed no sign of preventing said outcome._

_The dark-haired man rolled his eyes. "Fine. He's a teenager. A jumped-up, reckless teenager who I swear seems more and more like a hyperactive puppy every time I look at him."_

_Genesis blinked. "Then why in Shiva's name was he made _your_ responsibility?"_

"_Because he's terrific." Angeal said simply. "His skill level was unmatched by any other in his rank, and as a result he was chosen from his group to be trained for SOLDIER. He could be in Second Class within a matter of weeks… if he would just shut up and follow instructions."_

_Sephiroth gave a short, wry sort of laugh. "By the sounds of it, there'd be no-one else in First Class who would be able to train him without wanting to throw him out a window during the first session."_

"_Maybe that's why they assigned him to Angeal," sniggered Genesis._

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

_The silver-haired man peered at his friend with a kind of mild, discomfited vexation that was seldom seen in him. "Genesis, just because your patience rarely lasts more than five seconds-"_

"_What're you getting all sour for?" the man interjected, his expression suddenly defensive. _

"…_I rest my case."_

_Angeal shifted on the spot, raising a hand. "Would you two kindly put a plug in it? Zack has potential, so I'm not going to be so shallow as to judge him at first glance. He's only a kid."_

"_Ooh, so it's _Zack_ now?"_

_Genesis was given a sharp nudge on the shoulder by Sephiroth. Angeal never bothered to mention it, but the General rarely put up with insults directed at his black-haired friend. There was a lot of respect between the two of them; and fiery, naïve, emotional Genesis seemed to be oblivious to it. But that was just the way he was, and Angeal wouldn't dare to try and change that._

"_You should take it as a compliment, Angeal." Sephiroth said with a nod. "Think gladly of the fact that you're the only one out of us who has the patience to take on the task of training this boy. You'd do a far better job than we would."_

_Angeal grunted. "Well. I'm either patient or crazy."_

"_You couldn't be crazy if you tried." The redhead proclaimed. "Even when you're drunk you do nothing more than sit in a corner and mumble to yourself."_

_Angeal shot him a sharp glare. Sephiroth just smirked and looked away._

"_The kid'll be in SOLDIER by next month." Genesis continued, his expression now considerably less sardonic._

_Angeal peered first at Sephiroth, then at his childhood friend. "Is that a wager?"_

_Genesis stared at the floor, raising a brow. "No, it's a certainty." He then looked up at them both, smiling almost knowingly. "Our Angeal will see to that."_

It seemed as though hardly any time had passed since then… and yet the transition between then and now was so fleeting - so drastic - that it was surreal to think it was here they once considered young Zack Fair together, and here Angeal now reflected upon the same boy alone.

He had not forgotten how it was. There was no doubt about Zack's eventual success – only curiosity about how he would develop. And sure enough, their passionate, zealous friend had been right.

Angeal didn't dare ponder it aloud, but… If only dear Genesis could see the man Zack had become. If only he could see how well he knew his childhood friend – well enough to assume correctly what would happen. But was it the words of Genesis and Sephiroth that had helped Angeal drive Zack towards his goal, or was it the pure willpower of both mentor and apprentice?

Walking slowly towards the youth, Angeal fixed his gaze on the sun setting like fire above the ocean. He smiled faintly as he went. "So? Was it worth me bringing you up here?"

Zack, clearly having been absorbed in what he was looking at, jumped slightly. "Huh? Oh… yeah. Definitely. I never saw anything like it."

The boy's distinctive, constant personality was such that, should there have been anything amiss, Angeal could tell immediately. And at that moment, there was something _very_ wrong.

Angeal saw in his face - and heard in his voice - an unfamiliar jadedness that he didn't at all take contentedly to. The sunset was magnificent of course, and Zack was clearly immersed - but not in the right way. Where the young man should have been gawking at the spectacle in childlike wonder, he was gazing distantly and hopelessly at it, as if he were lost.

He looked, put plainly, _sad_.

Angeal came to stand next to him. He waited until his friend's eyes began to glisten before he spoke. "What is it?"

Zack did not answer.

The silence was both vexing and very worrying for the older man as he continued to stare at his protégé, awaiting a reply.

He sighed. "I won't have it, Zack. You might as well give up, because I'll find out anyway."

The boy lowered his head. "It's stupid and I'll get over it."

"My, this sounds familiar." Angeal frowned, folding his arms.

Zack wouldn't be able to do what he tried to do about his muscle ache back in Rocket Town. He smiled vaguely, but it lasted barely a second. "Seriously, I will. I just need a little time, is all."

"Alright." Angeal nodded. "Now tell me what you'll _really_ do."

Zack paused, his face falling. "Try and avoid telling you until I start ripping my hair out and ruining my fighting performance."

Angeal grunted. "There, now we're getting somewhere. Next, tell me what you'd do to prevent such an outcome."

"I'd tell you what's up."

"Good. Now do what you've just said."

Zack went quiet before looking timidly back at his mentor. "It's… not that easy. To you, it'd seem commonplace because you're used to it. You'd just tell me to get over it."

There could be no more of this; no more that Angeal could stand anyway. Very nearly losing his composure through concern, he took a sharp step forwards and levelled his face with Zack's, peering sternly into his eyes. "Have you learned nothing since we last had this conversation? How do you know what my reaction will be unless you _tell_ me? Even if it was so 'commonplace' in my eyes, what kind of a mentor d'you think I'd be if I just dismissed it as trivial to someone far less experienced? Damn it Zack, you know me better than that."

The youth had been staring back at him almost in fear before he turned away, defeated, his eyes turning rather red. Angeal regretted snapping at him, but he didn't know how else he would get through to him.

But when Zack let out what was unmistakably a sigh shaken by imminent tears, the taller man's face drained of all infuriation.

"…This morning, I saw one of my comrades killed in battle." His slender face did not turn an inch. "Nice guy, about my age. We were pretty friendly. Some monster got him, and… I'd just never watched someone die like that before."

Angeal's stomach plummeted. _Oh… That._

"I know. It's something we have to get used to, right? I mean, after all… It happens in this job. I just…"

He could not finish his sentence. Though his head was still turned away, the youth's shoulders trembled with a wracking breath.

Angeal did not need to hear any more. He didn't know or _care_ why, but he wanted nothing more than to comfort Zack, _his_ Zack; to stop his fear and misery and have him back to his usual self. It could have been impulse, care – Angeal's own sorrow for his companion that drove him to do what he did then, but his mind blocked that out too – instead he moved a hand around the young man's back, urging him gently into his powerful arms.

A ringing in his ears… His heart worked as if he had just ran a mile, and all of a sudden there was no ocean, no sky, no cannon – nothing except now, and them. He was absorbed in this rare embrace, and when the hands grasping the back of his shirt sent a chill down the length of his spine, Angeal was – for the first time since he could remember – frightened of what he felt.

Zack trembled intermittently against his mentor's chest. Angeal felt previously weak arms tighten their hold around his waist; unruly hair tickle his chin. There were many strange things within the mere _notion_ of this embrace, but Angeal felt the strangest was the fact that where they both would probably have been awkward, they were so close – so immersed in this – that he felt they could almost have been one person, with the same mind. It was something decidedly extraordinary, and Angeal could put no words to what it drew up within him… He could feel more than he'd ever felt, and Gaia be damned, he couldn't decide what it _was_…

The one thing he knew for certain, however, was that this act of affection was slowly entwining a bond; a connection between them both – and it was growing ever stronger.

He had to bring himself back to the matter at hand. Opening his eyes, Angeal leaned his face into the dark softness of Zack's hair. "It's torment, the first time you have to see it."

The youth stirred against his chest. Angeal felt fingers clutch ever tighter at his shirt.

"Before I joined SOLDIER," he continued, "I had never seen a friend die, let alone in such a way. When I finally bore witness to it, I was so distraught that I wouldn't leave my room for days. But it's a terrible truth, Zack… With this profession comes heavy loss. You'll understand better as time goes by, but for now-"

"-For now I just need you to tell me it'll be alright." A small voice mumbled from against his chest.

Angeal thought for a moment that there may have been something else behind this; some other matter that weighed down on his Zack's mind, but he could bear the grief in his friend's words no longer. Drawing his arms closer around him so that one hand cupped the back of the young man's head, he murmured; "Then, Zack… it'll be alright."

With a breath and the movement of unsteady hands higher up Angeal's back, Zack nodded and sniffed in reply.

"It'll be alright…" Angeal repeated, his words trailing off into a strange, blissful kind of uncertainty as he closed his eyes once more to the world.

He wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed when he eventually became attentive to his own actions again, but he had a feeling – suddenly aware he was now clutching a smaller pair of hands to his chest and resting his chin on an unmoving forehead – that the purpose of this warm gesture had already gone far beyond that of friendly consolation.

But Zack was gripping firmly back on his hands, and showed no sign of withdrawing from it all. Angeal was now conscious of the warm breath against his throat; his friend's faint yet familiar scent mingled with that of the sea – and the sky was red with sun nearly set. The entirety of it felt like some surreal, idyllic dream.

"Angeal?" Zack whispered.

"Mm?"

The youth drew his head away, gazing first at the floor and then tentatively back into Angeal's eyes. "Can I be honest? This whole thing about my pal dying isn't all that's been bugging me."

"I thought as much." The older man replied in earnest, with a smirk. He had known this would arise at some point, and he was willing to be patient.

There was a long pause, and pairs of glinting azure eyes found one another.

Whatever it was, Zack could not seem to get it said. His mouth opened and closed, and his sight kept shifting to and from the ground until he finally looked back up at Angeal, and took a breath.

"I…"

_Riiing riiiiing._

Like a bucket of freezing water over him while he slept, the generic man-made noise of Angeal's new pager made a full-frontal assault on both his ears and their precious exchange. Scowling and screwing his eyes shut, he wished every curse under the sun upon whoever had decided to call him at this moment.

Zack, his expression inevitably crestfallen and deflated, took a small step back. "S'okay. Take it – might be important."

Hesitating, Angeal sighed. "I'm sorry-"

The boy raised a hand. "Seriously, it's fine. You should answer it."

Looking ruefully at his companion, Angeal reluctantly dug into his pocket and retrieved the offending object, answering it with a terse "Yes?"

"_Angeal?"_ said the voice on the other end._ "It's Lazard. I know it's your time off, but a serious situation's arisen near Corel. We have to send you and Sephiroth out with First Class immediately."_

He could not avoid this, no matter how hard he might try. "…I see. How long will we be out for?"

"_Two days, at least. It's a rather urgent matter… we need you here in the briefing room as soon as possible. You'll leave Junon by nightfall."_

…Damn it. "Alright."

Shoving the pager back into his pocket, Angeal raised a hand to his head in exasperation.

"What was it?" asked Zack.

"I'm being called out on a last-minute operation, apparently."

"…How long for?"

"Two days, I'm told."

If at all possible, Zack's face had fallen even more. "And I can't come with you."

It was said factually; not in question. Angeal sighed once more, almost inattentively running a hand through Zack's hair. "I'm sorry. They want-"

"First Class out. I understand."

…It was really quite unsettling how many times Zack managed to finish sentences for him. "Believe me, if I could do anything about it…"

A flicker of a smile reached the youth's face. "You better be going, or you'll get in trouble. Don't let me hold you back."

Angeal looked down. "Will you be alright?"

"You said I would - so I will. No need to worry about me."

Zack. Ingenuous, kind, beautiful Zack. He had no idea…

Angeal smiled sadly in return. "You want me to see you back to the city?"

"Thanks… but actually, I might stay out here a little longer. I'll find my way back."

In that fleeting silence, the mentor had never been more begrudging of his duty. He took a last look at his weary friend and gave his arm a short squeeze before turning to go.

"Angeal?"

"Yes."

"…Take care, huh?"

A lump caught in his throat. Without the resolve to turn around once more and torment himself with the sight of Zack's honest, wonderful and dejected face, the warrior simply gave a brief nod, and took his leave.

He hadn't let it cross his mind before, but it had all fallen into place in that one moment. The will to keep urging Zack to success, the concern for his wellbeing, the terror Angeal felt when the boy came close enough to danger, the grief he felt to see him unhappy… He could deny it no longer. It was glaringly apparent now just how much Zack meant to him.

And he knew, as the sun disappeared behind the ocean's hazed horizon, that this awaiting mission would make for the longest two days of his life.

* * *


	7. Discover

_**Discover**_

"_Hey, Tseng!"_

_The sharp-faced Turk stopped in his tracks, sighing quietly as he turned on his heel to face the individual striding towards him. He folded his arms. "Make it quick, Fair."_

_As the youth drew to an abrupt halt before him, Tseng realized he needed no degree in psychology to work out that Zack was clearly - and unusually - flustered. _

"_You had any word back about the group sent out to Corel?" The tone of his voice was what one would use when attempting to put a front of nonchalance over obvious concern._

_Tseng frowned. He'd heard it all before – the younger ones were all the same. "Why would I need to tell you that?"_

"_I only want to know how they're doing."_

"_I don't see why it would be of any concern of yours."_

_There was a look of surfacing anger on Zack's face. "Look, it's just… Angeal told me-"_

"_Ah, I see." Tseng muttered, cocking an eyebrow. "You were told the mission wouldn't last quite as long as it's turned out to be. Well in that case, Fair, I received word that the operation over-ran due to unforeseeable events – the SOLDIERs should be returning by tomorrow."_

_Zack sighed. "That so? Okay. Thanks."_

_And he abruptly left the Turk's presence, his footsteps heavy as he went._

_

* * *

_

There was bloodshed and shadow that night; nothing familiar, nothing to recognize. There was fear, noise – incomprehensible, blurred, muffled. _Echoes should have a source_, he thought… but they were disembodied, without origin; merely harrowing reverberations. Ah, but that flash of metal, cutting through the dark… who was this? Why were they bleeding?

And a voice, calling his name… No, not him! Not him, please – anyone but him, spare _him… _

_Take me instead, whatever you are! _

It was loud and clear now. Echo first, and then its foundation; its cause – a familiar voice. The image of blood trickling from a terrible gash – _No! Let him go, please!_

They clawed at him, stealing him away… He called out again, and could not fend them off –

No…

_Angeal!_

Zack's eyes flew open, his upper body lurching up and over with such force that a stabbing pain shot up his spine. Cold air from the open window was prickly and unwelcoming against the clammy surface of his skin. Once again his ears rung, and a dull headache soon added itself to the situation. Zack cringed against it, his breaths rapid and heavy as he raised both hands to his forehead in an attempt to shut it out.

He was glad there was no-one around to see him in this state; he could not remember the last time he had been thrown that far off-balance. And that dream – no, that _nightmare_ – had, in short, freaked him the hell out.

Moving to sit on the edge of his bed, he suppressed the urge to let out a yell of frustration. Five days alone had, for some reason, brought about these spiteful dreams – but none had been as distressing as the one whose last dreadful images were now ebbing slowly away from Zack's conscious mind.

There was clearly going to be no rest for him until he knew his friend had arrived back safely.

His digital clock confirmed the time as something not far from 3am. He hadn't been asleep long. He knew he should have been shattered, owing to how little rest he'd had over the past five days - but there was no way his body or his psyche would allow him to sleep any further tonight.

Zack ambled bleary-eyed towards the end of his bed, where he'd flung a t-shirt over the footboard the previous evening. Wrestling the thing over his head, he departed the room. Perhaps he would take a walk. He thought that by doing so, maybe he'd have a better chance of bumping into Angeal – or at least someone who knew where he was. But how much could he rely on said chance, realistically?

Tseng had said the SOLDIERS would be returning yesterday, but there had been no sign of them. It was now three hours into the next morning, and they had yet to arrive. Zack wondered if they'd been held up yet again, or worse…

_No. Quit thinking like that. He'll be fine…_

The boy was no idiot. He knew Angeal was more than capable of taking care of himself, and that worrying for his safety would be almost useless. But Zack's sleep was being disturbed, and he knew why now. Things left unsaid usually found a way of getting to you – this was something he had grown to learn from being around his mentor. And Zack had so much he wanted to say, before the one to hear it was called away almost on cue.

If this was fate, it sure as hell wasn't on his side right now.

Shaking his head with a bitter smile, Zack began to walk the corridors of Junon's SOLDIER Headquarters with his head lowered and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweat pants. It was cold, and silent, and there was a dull blue glow in the hallway that exaggerated every shadow. Zack's mind was occupied with everything and anything; nothing that comprehensible or rational, nothing clear enough to make note of. He let his mind jumble his thoughts for a while until, as he came to a halt where the corridors forked out before him, every thought formed one recognizable memory.

It was those hands closed over his own, that low voice speaking words of comfort that echoed deep into his head; the sunset, and the tears blurring his vision, and how his heart felt as though it were beating in his throat – how much he ached to say what he'd wanted to say for so long…

Zack closed his eyes. When would he ever say it? _How?_ Would he look like a fool, knowing he was perhaps too naïve to know the difference between love and a silly crush?

But in the end, he wondered if he cared. There was something there between them, that's all he knew. And after all, he was well aware of how much Angeal – his Angeal – valued honesty.

He really _did_ hope he would meet his friend somewhere along these halls.

A wave of nausea swept over Zack, leaving as quickly as it came. Gods, was it actually true? In the time spent with his mentor, had chance truly ensured that he felt more for this _man_ than he'd ever felt for any woman, no matter how sweet or beautiful?

But, he decided, Angeal _was_ beautiful. More so than any being, let alone woman.

_Guess that's it then, _He thought._ If the troops find out I crush on guys they'll never let it rest._

He couldn't help but smile wryly to himself.

It was the sound of footsteps to his right that wiped any trace of that smile from his face. Frozen to the spot, Zack stared at the floor and attempted to remain as quiet as possible. Part of him wanted to be alone, but another part wanted to know the owner of those footsteps. And he had a funny feeling as to who it might have been…

"Zack?"

Something jolted inside him, causing his heart to miss a beat. He recognized that voice.

He was facing an empty corridor, but the voice had come from behind. Turning around, he caught the tall silhouette of someone walking towards him.

Zack took a sharp breath. It was Sephiroth.

"Oh…" he said, unsure whether to laugh with relief or cry with disappointment. "Sir, you're back. Sorry, just couldn't sleep so I… Has everyone -"

"No you aren't supposed to be lurking around here at this hour," the general muttered wearily, "the group got back an hour ago - and yes, Angeal is alright."

As he finished, a trace of a smirk flitted across his pale face.

Zack stood, nonplussed, before him. For a while they were silent, and as Zack stared into those eerie green eyes that seemed suddenly full of knowing, he smiled himself.

"Thanks."

The man raised a brow and brushed a few strands of wispy hair away from his face. As he began to make his leave, he glanced back at the youth and seemed unable to prevent the smile that returned to his placid, somewhat drowsy countenance. "My sleeping pattern is no example to follow, so don't let me catch you skulking along the length of these corridors at obscene hours again."

Zack nodded, but paused for a second. "Oh wait, Sir-"

But before he could finish, a faint reply of "You'll find him" trailed behind the General as he disappeared further into the darkness of the hallway; the last glimpses of his leather coat and long silver hair drifting along in his wake.

Zack walked down the left corridor as swiftly and quietly as possible, his pulse quickening with his steps.

He rounded a sharp corner, and another, until he entered a longer and far darker passageway. Yet as the lights grew dim to the point of near-blackness, Zack suddenly spotted the shadow of a lone figure standing with their back against the wall, their head lowered. Zack stopped still, relief and anticipation winning over any bad feeling he previously had… The person standing in front of him was Angeal.

He still wore his uniform; though his armour, belt and bracers had been removed and – most unlikely of all – his sword was missing, probably locked away elsewhere. He looked both exhausted and thoroughly restless at the same time - and it took a few seconds for him to acknowledge Zack's presence, for some reason… it seemed a little more like he was attempting to find something to say. Eventually he raised his head, and turned to look at the young man with the same strange, weary sort of smile that Sephiroth had given him – if slightly less haughty.

"Early start?" he murmured. "I've heard of punctuality, Zack, but this is slightly extravagant."

The youth shrugged and shifted on the spot. "Just felt like a little early-morning exercise, is all."

Angeal gave a soft half-laugh. "You and I know that isn't the reason why you're not in your bed sleeping with the intent to wake up two hours late the next morning."

…It was far too good to have him back.

"Can't put much past you." Zack replied, smiling weakly as he paced closer to his friend.

For a moment Angeal wore the sort of expression you'd expect to see on someone who was trying to figure you out as discreetly as possible. "I'm guessing it hasn't been easy to sleep."

They exchanged looks of mutual understanding. Before long, that aching feeling welled up inside Zack and told him exactly why he was here… He wanted to be with Angeal; that went without saying. But he wanted most of all, at this moment, to tell him _why_ he wanted to be with him. If only he could just find the words…

Angeal sighed. "You should probably be getting some rest, now that I'm-"

"No." Zack interjected, before he could stop himself. Without thinking, he grasped Angeal's forearm. "Listen, I couldn't get back to sleep if I tried. Can't I just… hang out with you for a while?"

Clearly nonplussed, the taller man paused for a few seconds as he peered down at the hand clutching at him. But seemingly, it didn't take too long for him to give in.

Angeal looked at his young friend with something between empathy and exasperation. Zack, waiting for an answer, felt his heart jump when another hand covered his own.

"You're lucky I'm not tired either," Angeal muttered, "otherwise I'd have to disappoint you."

Zack felt excitement equal itself with his wrought nerves. He hadn't noticed his hand was shaking. "You mean it?"

"No, I'm just being an asshole." He rolled his eyes. "Daft pup. We can take a trip out of Junon for a while; go someplace where the air is clearer. It might help."

The boy smiled, and removed his hand. "Hope this doesn't entail more long-distance walking."

Angeal raised his brow. "You have got to be joking."

Laughing mutedly, Zack followed his mentor to wherever he was now starting to depart. "Then how're we getting there?"

"…I'll arrange something."

They entered an elevator to take them to the ground floor. When the light inside allowed for more visibility, Zack – upon peering at Angeal out of the corner of his eye – noticed the man looked more drained and hassled than he'd ever seen him. His hair was nowhere near as tidy as usual, and he was pale – very pale. Zack, however concerned, knew he was better off leaving this matter alone. Instead he thought he might make conversation.

"So how was the mission?"

Angeal raised his eyebrows, uttering a short sigh. "It was… successful."

"I meant how was it for _you_, not how did it _go_."

The man did not respond for a while. In truth it looked as though he were pondering his answer.

Zack waited.

The elevator doors opened, and as they left for the entrance hall, Angeal turned to look at him. "I'll tell you later."

And they opened the doors to the night air, leaving the building and ascending stairs to a higher level of Junon. They turned a corner and came to what seemed like a large warehouse. Angeal drew out a cardkey from his pocket and swiped it through the slot on the door, causing it to slide open. Zack could see nothing inside until the ultraviolet lights flickered on, revealing an army of extremely well-polished black motorcycles. When he was led to one of them, Zack couldn't help but feel like they were doing something slightly illegal.

Almost as if he'd sensed this, Angeal smiled back at him. "First Class allows you a few privileges, let's just say that."

The young man stared wide-eyed as one of the bikes was freed from its chain and promptly sat on. "Will I get busted for this?"

"No, I will." replied Angeal plainly. "Hop on the back, then – it won't eat you."

Both exhilarated and terribly anxious, Zack complied – swinging a leg over the seat and settling himself on it. "Since when were you into breaking the rules?"

"I'm not." He replied. "But right now, Zack, I really couldn't give a fuck."

The shaken youth would have burst out laughing, had it not been that the sudden deafening whirr of the engine sent an almighty jolt through his system, making him cling instinctively onto Angeal's back.

"Helmets?" he nearly squeaked.

"We'll be fine. Just hold on fast."

And before Zack could protest or even reply, he was forced to fling his arms tight around Angeal's waist as the motorbike shot out of the warehouse and onto the ramp that led upwards and out of Junon. At first, he was virtually petrified.

But as they left the city and were faced with nothing ahead but open grassland and a sky full of stars, Zack felt his trepidation turn slowly into a simple trust for the man racing this machine – and him - away from the confines of Junon. He realized eventually that this thrill; this feeling of exhilaration was exactly what he needed – and as he leaned his face closer into powerful shoulder blades and felt the cool night wind embrace him as they went, he decided he rather liked this somewhat rebellious side to Angeal.

But more importantly than anything else, they were together. Just the two of them. Whether Zack got anything said later or not was irrelevant at this blissful, enlivening moment – and soon enough, he had let himself become gradually lost in it.

* * *

After sighting the towering mountains in the distance and deciding they were sufficiently far out into the open, Angeal brought the motorbike to a gradual stop. There was nothing but an expanse of near-darkness laced with gentle moonlight, and the breeze carried a faint scent of damp grass as it whirled over them. For a moment the two of them sat on the bike and took in the tranquil scene, and Angeal – aware then that a pair of arms still encircled his waist – wondered if it all was real; he thought that perhaps he may still have been on the camp site in Corel dreaming as he did every night he was there… Dreaming of something not dissimilar to this. And in their silence he thought he might wake up alone again.

But through it all, Angeal knew the way his stomach turned and writhed was all too tangible, all too familiar – and something anticipatory within him returned. He fell hard from the dreamlike to the painfully real in a second.

"Shall we take a walk?" He asked, cursing inwardly as he heard his voice break on the last word.

Zack's arms hesitantly broke from around his mentor, and he shifted in his seat. "Sure."

He had dismounted and gone ahead by the time Angeal turned off the bike's engine. The boy seemed enchanted by the peaceful grassland and the cool glow of the moon as he strolled into its path, stopping to stare up at it. Angeal joined him, unable to control the urge to watch as the soft light painted a radiance on Zack's pale skin.

Upon realizing what he was doing, he went cold. And at the same time, there was a burning in the pit of his stomach. The young man, in that moment, had drawn up everything within Angeal that he had felt the evening before he left…

"C'mon!" Zack called back. "I wanna go stargazing."

He had obviously paused too long to think, and laughed quietly to himself. As if Zack's childlike words had acted as an antidote, he found himself miraculously cured of his unease. He followed and caught up, still slightly dazed.

The boy was observant; tonight was a good one for spotting stars. They adorned the sky as if it were a canopy of jewels above them, and Angeal remembered how much he appreciated this captivating sight; the air above Midgar and Junon city was always too polluted with lights and Mako for anything beyond to be visible.

Then he looked aside of him, at Zack, whose wonder lit up his youthful face. Angeal seemed prepared now to admit that his friend may have been the thing that amplified the beauty in their surroundings.

"Here is good," Zack said, ducking down to settle on the grass. Angeal joined him.

"I can see nearly every constellation tonight," said the man quietly.

Zack frowned. "What's a constellation?"

"You're kidding. You don't know?"

The boy shook his head.

Angeal sighed. "Sometimes you can draw yourself a picture by joining certain groups of stars together."

Zack turned to him, eyes wide. "Really?" He grinned and slumped onto his back, placing his hands behind his head. "Sounds like fun. Can we do that?"

"I can show you the ones that are already there." Angeal peered upwards. "There are proper names for them, but I never felt they did them any justice. I gave them my own."

"You did?"

"Stupid, I know."

"What're you talking about?" Zack turned to look at his mentor. "It's not stupid. It's… wonderful. I'd really like to know what you called them."

For a moment Angeal hesitated, until Zack tapped the ground next to him, motioning for him to lie down. The man complied with a hefty sigh, laying on his back and clasping his hands over his stomach.

"That shape there, with the three sharp points… See it?"

Zack's eyes darted around. "Where?"

"Up there, east of the moon."

"…Which one, that one?"

"No. Further right."

"Uh…"

Angeal grunted. "Okay, I can see this is going to be a problem." He shifted so there was barely an inch between them, and pointed so his finger was directly within the boy's line of sight. "There."

Zack shut an eye and leaned his head closer inward, his forehead brushing Angeal's cheek.

"Oh, I see it. Hey, it almost looks like a-"

"Crown?"

"…I was gonna say fork."

Angeal chuckled. "Open to interpretation, I guess. I call it the Crown. And that one…" He pointed away from the moon – "where there's a long curve of stars, and four horizontal on either side… Looks like a flying bird, doesn't it? I call that the Swan."

The twinkling lights were reflected in Zack's wide blue eyes as he stared, enthralled at what Angeal was pointing out to him. He continued to listen intently as Angeal went through more shapes, and soon the SOLDIER was aware that their heads had become settled quite comfortably against each other. He felt his friend's unruly black hair tickle the skin between his eye and ear as he gestured towards the final constellation.

"There's a big cluster of stars there," said Zack, "I think… it almost looks like a figure. Holding something. Like a sword, or a spear."

"Interesting," Angeal smiled, "I always struggled with that one. Seems I didn't make the picture big enough."

"What shall we call it?"

"You found it – it's yours to name."

Zack paused to look at it for a while. Then he smiled placidly. "The Hero."

There was a comfortable silence between them as they directed their smiles towards each other, then looked back up at their new constellation. _Hero_, Angeal repeated in his mind…

"Thanks for taking me out here."

Zack's murmuring voice resounded in his mentor's ear, alerting his every nerve. Angeal was suddenly overcome with a desire to be open; to voice his every thought and feeling to his beautiful friend and to never withhold a truth again… Zack deserved only this, he decided, and it probably wouldn't go unappreciated either.

Angeal looked down at his clasped hands. "Something still feels like it's… missing."

Zack turned, and their faces were close. So unnervingly, rapturously close…

The boy spoke softly. "What d'you mean?"

Angeal felt his heartbeat quicken. "You ever get the feeling you've some unresolved matter to attend to? Unfinished business?"

"I guess. But what's on your mind?"

Angeal was about to say it. But the words never came; they even left to the point where he no longer knew _what_ he had to say. It was a very primal hesitation, and it instantly destroyed what hope he thought he had of speaking freely. Instead he was filled with a very grim sense of dread. "You know, I think we should get back soon. If I'm out of the city too long, they'll kick up a fuss. And… You need some rest."

He felt cold as he got to his feet.

"Huh?" Zack sat up. "But… I told you. I can't sleep."

Angeal merely sighed.

"Can't we at least go back to the cannon, or something?"

"Alright." Angeal began to walk heavy-footed back to the motorbike, Zack following reluctantly behind.

:

The ride back had been silent. Angeal felt quite awful for prying his young friend away from the tranquillity of their escape, but… Well, _why_ had he done it? There was some truth in the excuse he'd made to go back, but it wasn't entirely his motive. He wasn't altogether sure why he'd hurried to leave. He was worried about how freely he seemed to be acting upon the impulse of his emotions, and he suspected Zack may have had some such influence on this.

They packed the motorcycle away as discreetly as possible, and made their way upwards towards the looming cannon. All the while, Angeal had observed the expression on Zack's face as it became more and more jaded.

As they returned to that spot on the gigantic machine, Angeal could not suppress the influx of memories that flooded into his mind. As he watched Zack amble along to the centre with his hands in the pockets of his baggy track pants, the image of the sunset and the feeling of tender hands played on Angeal's conscience. Sleepless nights had drained him, and he knew why. He simply could not shake the vividness of that memory.

And once again, re-living the ringing in his ears and the knotting in his stomach, Angeal decided that something had happened here that evening. And it would never, ever go back to the way it was...

* * *

Zack was thrown by their sudden departure. He had been immersed in their talk of stars, and wished more than anything that they could have stayed. He had felt for a moment, as they had drawn their faces so close to each other, that his wonderful friend had been about to tell him of his own feelings for once… How beautiful it would have been, to lie there and _listen_ to Angeal, to provide him with anything he sought in a friend; in a companion… Perhaps he might even have slept there, next to the man he revered, and found comfort again in his powerful arms…

A chilly breeze swept around Zack, and he shivered. He felt colder for some reason, like it was when someone you'd been sitting close to had got up and left. But he was determined not to let this night go the same way it had gone the last time – he could not have Angeal leave. Not without knowing, at least…

There was a rigid pause, until Zack smiled uneasily. "Who knows how long we might've stayed up here that last evening, if you hadn't - "

His words ebbed away, and he felt a familiar lump rise in his throat.

Angeal was staring, almost desolately, into the distance.

Zack continued. "How did you feel? Y'know, when they called you out."

"…Like I'd been forced away from something important."

Zack looked at his feet. "Hence the _unresolved matter_ thing?"

"Perhaps."

Angeal went quiet, until something furrowed his brow. He opened his mouth again. "Zack-"

All of a sudden, presumably in the process of turning to confront each other, the both of them had come face-to-face; just inches apart. They froze, and Zack's heart thudded in his chest.

Nerves caused the young man to stutter and smile awkwardly. "Picking up where we left off, huh?"

But Angeal said nothing. Instead he had gone pallid, and in his handsome face – mingled with its usual solemn authority – was a rare tinge of fear.

Zack's own expression fell. "From that evening on… I haven't been able to forget. Why… why did you hold me like that, really? I know I was upset, but…"

Angeal's magnificent eyes left him and found the floor. It was strange and sad to see, but he seemed to be struggling to find something to say.

Heart racing by now, Zack decided he could no longer hold back much of this anticipation that gripped him. In a movement fuelled by desperation, he boldly grasped Angeal's hands and drew them up between their chests.

"…Remember for me?"

There was an increase in the rise and fall of his mentor's chest, and the pulse he could feel in the wrists beneath his fingers had quickened. By now the rush of Zack's own blood was pounding in his ears, the air between them had electrified, and he could only gaze hopefully up at Angeal, whose own apprehension became apparent on his chiselled face.

He paused to think, but quickly frowned in distress. He lowered his voice to a murmur. "…Why do you need to know so badly?"

Zack felt the wind sting at the tears forming in his eyes. This was it… he could never go back, and what he needed to say would change their relationship forever, whether it was in his favour or not…

"I…"

The words caught in his throat. He suddenly found himself right back where he started; that evening, without courage to speak, when he had been about to –

"You had something to say…"

Zack, looking up, sensed a sudden realization on his friend's face as it softened before him. He felt a tear escape and trickle coldly down his cheek. "I'm still afraid to say it. You'd understand… If you knew what it was."

"Trust me, I understand." Angeal replied in a near-whisper.

Zack peered at him sceptically, sadness filling him. "Really."

But for some reason, Angeal appeared to have relaxed. It was almost as though he had made a decision in his mind, and Zack was immediately attentive to it. But what was it? It could have been rejection… _Sweet heaven, don't let it be that…_

"Yes," replied Angeal, "so you don't even need to say it."

He wasn't sure how to feel… He was so confused… "But why-"

"Because, Zack…" all of a sudden, a hand raised to touch his face. "I know what it is. And I am just as afraid as you are."

This wasn't real… It couldn't have been… The way Zack found himself pulled inward by the same strong arms that held him that evening, the feel of a warm body against his, and the shiver upon the touch of gentle fingers on his neck. It couldn't have been happening.

It was.

Zack, his head spinning, raised his hands blindly to touch something; hair, skin, whatever he could of Angeal, and he found the man's high cheekbones as he leaned deeper into him, feeling like they could both be one person…

In his sheer anticipation and shock, his voice shuddered; "How did you…"

Angeal smirked and shook his head. "You forget how glaringly apparent you make your feelings."

"Is that a bad thing?" Zack's voice almost broke into an undignified squeak.

"Not in the slightest."

And soft lips closed over his own, sending him into a truly unfamiliar state; he was terrified, and he felt his companion's fear in the quivering hands that held him – they were afraid together, and Zack's heart thudded in his ears but nothing – not one thing – could eclipse the fact that Angeal had stolen him away from doubt; time had stopped for this, and as he felt their embrace deepen he knew it was at last real… hauntingly, euphorically real…

In that moment, everything between them _had_ changed. But Zack believed fate had been on his side when it did.


	8. Epilogue: Fate

He could feel the rain wash the blood from his face.

Pain that had seared across his chest before began to dull to a numbness that his body was gradually accepting, and it was then that he knew he was slipping away.

Faintly, he heard laboured breathing grow nearer. Someone was crawling across the mud towards him. Before long, Zack's blurred vision allowed him the sight of a young face, white with fear and illness and framed with wild blonde hair that had become plastered to his cheeks. Cloud's shaking hands found his limp arms, and he felt relieved. The boy was safe, and he would be with Zack until the end. The fallen warrior smiled weakly.

"Zack…"

The poor kid was barely conscious himself, but he looked close to tears. There was a grim feeling of pity within Zack as he considered his young friend would have to watch him leave this world, mere hours after he had promised them both a new life. With all the strength he could muster, the SOLDIER raised a hand and clasped it around the back of Cloud's neck.

"You need to be strong, buddy." He rasped, locking his dwindling sight onto the bleary eyes above him. "For the both of us."

Cloud's lip quivered as he grasped his friend's razed forearm. "Anything, I'll do anything…"

Zack felt his chest sting as he heaved another precious breath inside him. "Stay with me. All you have to do is stay…"

The boy nodded, shuffling closer and settling in his kneeling position next to him. Zack, aware that the numbness grew throughout his body, had now begun to forget about the ghastly tear in his chest and the crippling gashes in his limbs. He stared up at the dark grey sky and sighed as he escaped into his thoughts, knowing he would probably encounter them all at once in his last few moments. And true to what he had always heard, flashing in front of his eyes was an influx of echoing memories… and they started with one person.

"_We shouldn't be doing this. Not here…"_

Fluttering reminiscences of voices resounded deep in his mind.

"_I don't care."_

_Their_ voices…

"_Angeal? Stay tonight… Please?"_

"_I'm not going anywhere."_

He was slipping into these images as if they were happening all over again. The recollection of a strong, beautiful face swept into his head, taking over his vision. A dark forest painted itself behind, and he was inside the memory, feeling the gentle fingers on his cheek again.

_Angeal smiled his charming smile and leaned further into Zack, who took his lips into his own again. The air around them - already humid - had grown warmer.  
_

Zack realized he was waist-deep in water. They had been on another assignment out in some wild, muggy forest that day and escaped from their tent to cool off. He remembered this, and how he'd felt as if the world had disappeared in that moment to give way to one thought: it was his Angeal alone who deserved his attention, and there was no room for anything else…

_They were against each other's bare, soaked skin. Zack suddenly considered that the last time they'd revealed this much flesh in front of each other had been during an awkward communal shower not long ago – and his pulse raced as he realized this was nothing like that; it was a first time all over again, and now he had Angeal's body not only to see but to feel, with no limits or boundaries – he was deafened by his heartbeat, and gasped as a brand new sensation took him…_

The memory flickered out like a candle and a new one lit up in front of Zack. With this one came a new feeling entirely; there was a greater confidence swelling within that told him, in his deteriorating consciousness, that it had occurred far later than the last one. A different voice spoke this time; more aloof, but somehow concerned.

"_I know what's going on, Fair." Sephiroth murmured, his face set and serious._

_Zack should have felt terrified. He should have felt guilty. But nothing within him would allow any shame or fear to throw him. He would defend what he and his lover held, and anyone else would have to deal with it._

_The youth straightened up. "That so? Guess it was only a matter of time before you spotted something, _General_."_

_Sephiroth raised a brow. "Your defensiveness is admirable, Zack, but you'll find little use for it around me. Angeal is my friend and comrade, and you must know one thing before you continue your little… visits."_

_Zack had begun to feel vulnerable in an instant. He waited for the blackmail, the anger… But it never came. Instead, Sephiroth's expression softened, and he took a step closer. His eerie eyes locked into Zack's, and he spoke._

"_I swear if you ever let him go, or cause him any sorrow, I will be the first one you answer to."_

_The young man was surprised for a moment, but replaced it with a reassuring smile that his superior gradually returned. _

This too ebbed away. In a fleeting moment another recollection replaced the previous.

"_So d'you have someone special back home?" The blonde teenager asked tentatively._

_Zack smirked. "Yeah."_

"_What's her name?"_

"_Ang…ela."_

"_Angela?"_

"_Mhmm." Zack fought to suppress a snigger. "Beautiful lady. Blue eyes, dark hair – like mine. Strong one, too… she's even a little taller than me."_

_Cloud produced an expression of mild shock. "How does a girl even reach that height?"_

_Zack had been about to give another phony reply, until 'Angela' appeared in the doorway, armed with a cardkey that was recognizable immediately as the one to the motorbike warehouse._

_He narrowed his eyes as if he knew his partner had been up to mischief, but smiled politely. "Zack. Driving lesson."_

_Cloud seemed to be mulling something over in his mind as Zack left him with a salute and a wink. If the kid figured it out, so what? Might even teach the younger generation to be more open-minded…_

Zack felt a twinge coming from his lungs as he breathed in. The memories began flooding in quicker now, as if they hurried to remind him. In an instant he found himself fall from the lighthearted images preceding, and was confronted with one he knew was entrenched deeper still within him.

Could it have been…?

_A handsome face, previously smiling and whiter now than usual, suddenly became overcast with traces of sadness. They lay facing each other, the breeze from the window cooling their bare skin and rippling the sheets that covered them. Angeal touched Zack's chin softly, and the younger man watched as his mentor's expression gradually became more and more forlorn. There was something amiss, and it made him anxious._

"_You look so sad," Zack whispered. "Did I do something wrong?"_

"_You couldn't do a thing wrong, pup." He smiled weakly. But this, too, faded as quickly as it came. He seemed to be thinking deeply._

"…_You have to go somewhere, don't you?"_

_Angeal looked back into his eyes. The answer had been given to him already._

_Zack tried hard to fight the feeling lingering in his throat that threatened to give him tears. He swallowed. "For how long?"_

_His partner's eyes, duller in colour than usual for some reason, left his face. He gazed downwards. "I… don't know."_

_Zack wasn't sure what to think, or say. For a moment he touched Angeal's powerful chest, simply trying to find the heartbeat again. It fluttered beneath his fingers. He savoured it, wondering when he would be able to feel it again after tonight._

"_Whatever happens, Zack… I-"_

"_I love you, Angeal."_

_There was a silence, and he gazed hopelessly into Zack's face. A single tear fell from his paling, bloodshot eyes, and he clutched his young companion's hand, holding it close to his heart._

"_And… I love you. Don't forget it… Even when you might doubt everything around you…"_

Zack remembered the grim foreshadowing in Angeal's words that night, and as the following memories forced their way in front of him, he felt powerless to stop the torment that came with them.

"_I can't stay!"_

"_Please, Angeal…"_

"_This…" the white wing unfurled from behind his shoulder. "This only confirms what I thought. We're all monsters, Zack, and everything they told us… it was all lies…"_

"_We're not monsters!" he felt tears and anger rise in his voice. "You could never be a monster... Angeal, please – remember what you have in me. I'll do anything I can to help you…"_

"_You can't…"_

The scene changed again. A redheaded man stood before him, his eyes scathing.

"_It's too late, young one," he muttered, "He has discovered the wrongs he has been dealt, just as I did. ShinRa made us this way. You are a fool, if you think you will have him back…"_

Sephiroth's distressed face replaced that of Genesis.

"_Zack, you have to let this go. He isn't coming back."_

"_Stop it!" Zack was sick with fury and desperation. "Stop telling me the same fucking thing they all say! I'm going to find him, if it goddamned kills me!"_

"_You don't understand!" the General whirled up from his seat and loomed over Zack. "They both betrayed us, he and Genesis. You and I have both lost… But they cannot be saved…"_

"_You know what?" Zack snarled. "Screw you. We'll see exactly who betrayed who in this shitpile of a mess."_

The rage left a bitter taste. But it wasn't long before another, more painful memory flowed into view – and upon the recollection, that rage was supplanted with the most terrible, wretched feeling of despair Zack had ever experienced.

"_I'm so sorry…"_

_Zack felt he had destroyed his own heart when he delivered the final blow to the monster that had taken over his friend. The beast had fallen, but when he saw it shrink and flicker away to reveal the form of his beloved Angeal, lying defeated and broken on the ground, the agony in Zack's innermost being became close to unbearable. He dropped his blade and, shaking uncontrollably, fell to his knees by Angeal's side._

"_I… I'm-"_

"_Don't say sorry…" he rasped, lifting his hand to clutch Zack's wrist. "Remember - you had no choice. I would have killed you… and so many more…"_

"_But I…" Zack's chest burned as he drew breath, "This... It feels so horribly wrong, Angeal… I never wanted to lose you, let alone this way!"_

_The man's own eyes had filled with imminent tears as he gripped tighter on Zack's arm. Through what was clearly pain, he gave a fragile smile. "You couldn't do a thing wrong… pup."_

_Zack didn't dare try to control his tears. Placing a quivering hand on Angeal's paling, beautiful face, the youth sobbed quietly, disbelieving of anything that was happening. _

"_I'm proud of you, Zack…" Angeal's voice had dulled to a low murmur. "My Zack… I know you can continue what I never finished. You could be the greatest… hero that anyone could hope for."_

"_But you _are_ a hero. Don't you see? Nobody I know could ever come as close to the brave man I see in you. Nobody could ever understand… how completely incredible you are. I never forgot what you said to me… I never forgot, even when I doubted everything else!"_

_Angeal's tears matched that of his young friend as he gazed up at him, sadness and adoration in his greying eyes. "Then you did everything I hoped you'd do. That is why… I'm so proud…"_

_He cringed against what was obvious agony, and let out a shuddering breath. Zack, eyes suddenly wide with unspeakable dismay, desperately drew his beloved's head up into his arms. "Don't go… Please…"_

_With what was seemingly his last strength, Angeal latched his fingers onto Zack's shoulder, gazing into his glistening eyes. "No matter what happens… Follow your heart… Prove yourself in your _own_ right. N - nobody else's."_

_Zack, though he nodded, still could not accept the way Angeal's eyes had started to die back; the way his skin grew cold to touch. He ran his finger through hair now flecked with mako silver, and whispered, "For as long as we exist, even after we're gone from the planet… I'll love you. That's a promise."_

_A weak breath escaped Angeal. "I… love…y-"_

_But the fingers grasping his shoulder slowly slackened and fell away, and Zack – now horribly alone – bent over the body in his arms and trembled with hopeless sobbing. And in his grief and terror, he cried out as long and as hard as his burning lungs would allow…_

The images that followed became nothing more than shadowy reminiscences now, tainted by the echo of Zack's own screaming that still resounded in his mind. For a brief moment he thought he saw Sephiroth's face, changed by betrayal and insanity as fire smouldered behind him – but its effect was dulled. He still felt the sorrow that gripped him the night he watched his loved one fade away, and wanted these images to end…

He could feel the rain upon his face again. He wondered how much time had passed, but judging by the fact he could still see – rather than feel by now - his hand around the back of Cloud's neck, all those vivid memories had played out in the space of a mere moment; a lapse in time. But it had been a great enough number of seconds to blur Zack's vision even further, and he could feel his pulse slow. He felt as if one of his lungs may have collapsed, as it soon became more and more of a labour to breathe. He knew by now he was nearing the end, and for the sake of his terrified young comrade, he pulled forth a final smile.

"Whatever happens, Cloud…" he murmured, "I need you to continue on. Finish for me what I started…"

"I don't know where I'd begin." The boy said unsteadily.

"You'll know what to do," Zack replied quietly. "Follow your dreams. You have the strength, I know it… to be my living legacy…"

Cloud's youthful face, full of trepidation and uncertainty, reminded him that once, he himself may have looked just the same. They had all been young and scared once, but with each others' help, they had overcome it. And one day, Cloud would grow to breathe strength into his own companions…

The numbness had spread through Zack's entire body, and he could no longer feel any pain. Now, a different feeling altogether washed over him. As his vision diminished to mere daubs of dreary colour, he felt – for the first time – a little frightened. Cloud's voice echoed – _"Zack… Zack?" _– as he felt himself slip away into darkness. The last thing he heard was the reverberation of a long, mournful cry… and then there was nothing.

:

"_Zack…"_

Who was whispering his name?

"_Can you hear me?"_

But… he was dead… wasn't he? How was he still able to hear?

"…Zack."

The voice had spoken clearly now, sounding closer than before. And it was so familiar… Could it be…?

Zack tried to reach forth, but there was only darkness. He couldn't feel anything; his arms would not move – if they were even there. He suddenly felt afraid, like he was trapped – and so he called out.

"Help me…"

He knew he'd spoken, but he couldn't hear his own voice. He was blind, disembodied and fearful that this nothingness was truly the end. Surely this couldn't be it… There had to be something beyond this…

_Please…_

"Zack. It's okay. I'm here."

That voice…

"Angeal? Please… I'm scared…"

"It'll be alright. Just open your eyes, Zack. Open your eyes…"

He hesitated. It was almost as if he'd forgotten how to see.

"_Open your eyes…"_

Suddenly, like a wave washing over him, there came a deep and comforting warmth. And the darkness before him turned into a dazzling light, engulfing his vision and filling him with hope. But what was this, descending from the bright centre of this light towards him?

A feather… white. From an angel's wing…

"Is it you?"

A hand appeared from within the light, extending before him. With nothing to lose, he reached forth towards it – and this time, he could see his own. He grasped this strong hand, and felt himself float. It was pulling him up, into that glorious, warm light…

"Hold on, Zack."

There was an intense stream of air. He could see nothing except whiteness, and could feel only the familiar grip of that hand. It felt as though he was going on a journey, and he knew in that moment that though he had left his body, something still had yet to begin. It was another step…

Suddenly, he halted. That hand had let go of his, and he stood, gradually becoming aware of a soft rushing sound. And then, through the blinding radiance, a tall figure became slowly visible. Zack felt that warmth grow around him again, and he knew immediately that he was safe.

"Angeal…"

The figure spoke through a white haze. "You've done it, Zack. You can rest now."

The younger warrior smiled. "Would you say, then… that I became a hero?"

"The greatest anyone could hope for." Suddenly, the figure walked forward, and behind his head shone a halo of light. Angeal, exactly the way Zack remembered him at his very best, smiled a beautiful, tranquil smile. "And I am proud… ever so proud of you, Zack."

It was really him, his own brave love, magnificent and strong in the light – and Zack felt recognizable emotions entwine themselves throughout his ethereal being. He breathed out, the relief and comfort gracing him once again.

Angeal touched his face, and he felt the area on his cheek tingle. His old friend's eyes glistened, and his smile beamed. "Look at you… How strong, how stunning you've become. I can hardly call you a puppy any more."

"I didn't tell anyone, obviously, but..." Zack gave a lopsided smirk, "I missed it."

Angeal's soft laugh filled him with solace.

"I missed _you_." Zack continued. "Sometimes too deeply to cope with."

In that moment he felt choked with emotion as he felt the blissful familiarity of his friend's sturdy frame and secure embrace. For years he had been deprived of this, and he smiled widely as Angeal returned this indescribable affection, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"I've watched over you," he whispered, "when I've been able to see clearly enough. The boy, Cloud… You saved him. You'll be a very big part of his life."

"I hope so." Zack replied. "But I'm not done yet. Can I still… talk to him? I have a feeling he'll need my help at some point. I just know there'll be times when he'll think he's failing..."

"There are ways you can still help from within the Lifestream," Angeal said, "but I've yet to figure it out. We can try, though. You're right… You're not done yet; neither of us are. But we need to carry onward first."

"You mean, there's something ahead still… and you've stayed here all this time, in between?"

"In a way." He looked down, his wonderful eyes glowing. "But I was waiting. To continue my journey, with you."

Zack smiled. He had never broken his promise to love this man, even beyond life, and he decided it was for this very reason. Angeal was faithful, caring, beautiful – to the highest extent that a person could ever be, and the true honour in all this came not from being called a hero – though it had helped – but from the fact that Angeal was _his, _forever. These were the things, in the end, that had given him pride to have lived the life he did.

Zack looked deep into the splendid blue eyes of his saviour; his angel, and took his hand.

"Then let's go."

:

_~ Fin_

* * *

:

_**A/N: **Awwww. Well, it's been a long road to completion but there we have it. Thank you for reading, and for bearing with me, as this has been a story I've held close to my heart for a few years now; so much so that I've become a little deluded into thinking it's Crisis Core canon! XD I thank you for reviewing and complimenting my work; it's helped me both improve my writing style and appreciate my creativity. _

_**note: **I have been writing a set of little vignettes based on the established relationship between chapter 7 and 8. You will be able to view them in my account. x  
_


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